


Staring at the Sun

by LivGrapefruits



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Established Galolio, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mad Burnish plus Burning Rescue equals Found Family, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life, Which is my favorite tag ever, because i live for that, but also lots of pining and some drama, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivGrapefruits/pseuds/LivGrapefruits
Summary: At some point while they were still Burnish, Meis and Gueira took a gamble with their feelings for each other and it didn't quite work out. Rather than talk about it, they both buried it and went on with their lives as best friends, but now that they're no longer on the run and worrying about survival, the question of how they really feel comes back up, and everyone around them seems to have figured it out before they have.
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare), Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 24
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

Meis found the silence of the night watch to be the most calming part of his day. Sure, he loved the excitement of riding around, seeking danger and then narrowly avoiding it in a search of some kind of safety, but when perched on a rocky outcropping overlooking the featureless landscape that stretched on forever on the outskirts of civilization, he could pretend time stood perfectly still, that maybe if the sun never rose another day of living on the run would not come.

In the daytime, the sun baked the ground until it cracked, and it would bake the Mad Burnish too if they could get sunburned, but at night the temperature plummeted and were it not for the fire in his veins Meis would be shivering. As the cool breeze ruffled his hair he folded his arms and rested them on his knees, looking at nothing in particular. Everyone else should be long asleep by now. 

This day was no tougher than the last, but few days are easy, it just gets easier to manage them. Meis was tired. 

Footsteps on the rocky ground broke the thoughtless lull, and Meis whipped his head around, a flame sparking at his fingertips in defense. 

“Whoa, hey man.” Gueira’s voice calmed him instantly, the blue flame he’d called snuffing out. Gueira’s posture was slouched as usual, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he walked closer. One corner of his mouth was turned up into a sloppy sort-of half smile. 

“My bad,” Meis responded. 

Gueira slid onto the ground next to him, hugging his knees up to his chest. Meis looked at him sidelong, at the moonlight on his unruly red curls, the way it highlighted his cheekbones. In daylight the freckles across his nose and cheeks were more apparent than now, but Meis looked at them enough to map them even in the dark. Gueira turned to him and his smile grew wider, showing sharp canines. Meis felt as if he might melt. 

“What’re you out here for?” he asked. Gueira wouldn’t need to take watch for another few hours, and they both needed to take advantage of the little time they could sleep.

“Nothing. Fresh air.” Gueira said, then he smiled again and elbowed Meis playfully, “got the boss to sleep for once. Told him we’d both keep watch.” 

“You wish,” Meis rolled his eyes. It was almost impossible to get Lio to relax, and usually it was Meis who can do it. Gueira just laughed. 

“I did! I can’t believe you don’t think my natural charm worked!” 

Meis simpered, “Oh I didn’t realize y’had natural charm.” 

“Meis!” Gueira whined. 

“Gueira!” Meis mimicked his tone perfectly. Gueira grabbed his shoulders, and Meis took hold of the front of Gueira’s jacket in retaliation; they grappled for a moment, each trying to push the other but matched too well. Gueira’s expression holds a spark of uninhibited energy that spurs Meis on, as it usually does.

“Did’ja finally get some muscle? Or is this a fluke?” Gueira asked, egging him on. Considering that the two of them liked to shove each other around on a near-daily basis-- it lets off tension-- Gueira was saying this to push his buttons. 

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Meis said. He knew which buttons to press back. 

His own physical strength alone couldn’t overpower Gueira’s, but he knew how to redirect him when he throws his weight around. With a smile, Meis leaned backwards, pulling Gueira off balance and down with him. 

“Oof!” Gueira landed on top of Meis hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of both of them. But Meis was quicker than him and he shifted his body to flip them both over, pinning Gueira down by swinging his leg over and sitting on his torso. 

Meis looked down at his best friend with a mischievous smile, knowing he’d won this one. 

“Meis!” Gueira flailed under him a little “what the hell!” 

“Used your own strength against you. Works every time.” Meis said triumphantly. Gueira puffed his cheeks out, frowning up at him, and Meis felt a pang in his chest that wasn’t unfamiliar as of late. He felt it when he and Gueira rode side by side over the vast badlands, miles from the nearest down and with only themselves and Lio to keep them company, when they watched brilliant blue and pink flames engulf that which seeks to destroy them, when Gueira turns to look at him in the hulking form of his armor and Meis catches a glimpse of his wild grin before rushing into a fight. It’s an odd feeling, but good. 

“Meis?” Gueira looked up at him, red eyes darkened in the low light but no less full of fire. His shirt and jacket were a little disheveled, the collar pulled in such a way where it showed the tattoo on his collarbone. Meis blinked. 

He thinks he might be in love. 

“What?” 

They’re closer, when did they get so close? If Meis were to lean down just a little more their noses would brush. Gueria smells like the well worn leather of his favorite jacket, like the soup he and Lio had made for dinner, like warmth, and he’s looking up at Meis with an expression of pure confusion, brows furrowed and lips parted. When he blinks his eyelashes flutter and Meis wondered Gueira was always this cute or if he’d maybe been out in the heat too long today, and being Burnish means he knows the answer. 

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” Gueira asked. He’d propped himself up on his elbows, meeting Meis at almost eye level.

“Like what?” 

“Like, I dunno,” Gueira said, his voice is low, uncharacteristically hesitant, “like-” 

The distance between them closed, one whose part neither would ever say but Meis thought it might be himself. Gueria made a small noise in surprise against his lips, but he didn’t pull back. Meis’ heartbeat quickened to a dizzying pace, he brought a hand up to the back of Gueira’s neck, fingers intertwined with red curls.

They broke the kiss but lingered a moment too long after, Meis breathlessly searched for a sign that it was good. Or not. He met Gueira’s gaze, having to resist the urge to pull him back in. 

“Um…” Gueira started.

“Hm.” Dread washed over Meis, but he remained impassive as Gueira opened and closed his mouth in search of something to say. 

“That was…” 

“Weird.”

Meis finally moved and Gueira scrambled to sit up, running a hand through his hair. He brushed some of the reddish dirt from his clothes with a little too much vigor, eyes fixed on the ground. 

For the first time since becoming Burnish, Meis felt cold. 

“Definitely weird,” he said quietly, not really believing it himself. Gueira nodded a little too quickly.

“Yeah we-” he paused, “No.” 

“Yeah, no.”

Meis chanced a glance up and caught Gueira’s eyes on him, the silence between them stretched thinner and thinner like a rubber band about to snap.

Then they both started to laugh. It started nervous, cautious, until it dissolved into peals of real, genuine laughter that drained the tension from the situation, like it were just part of their usual roughhousing. Like things aren’t going to be awkward. Like this doesn’t matter. 

Meis matched Gueria’s grin and the two lean on each other, still laughing. 

“Let’s not do that again,” Gueira said. It sent a barb of hurt through Meis’ chest, even in the midst of laughter. Still, he nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, “we shouldn’t.” 

Then he looked up at the sky, the smattering of stars across inky blue, hyper-aware of how they’re sitting so close, shoulder to shoulder. Gueira huffed one last laugh and the two fall into silence until the sky starts to turn pink with the rising sun. 

At some point Gueira dozed off with his head on Meis’ shoulder, and the night stretched on with nothing else for Meis to do but sit and think about what just happened, going over in his mind what he would have said or done differently if given another chance. 

Most of all, he worried if this would change their friendship. His instinct said no, not on the surface, considering that Gueira fell asleep on him as usual, an odd reassurance that they were still just as they always were: partners in crime, best friends. 

But in his own mind everything changed, Gueira wasn’t just his best friend now. Well, Gueira hadn’t been just his best friend to him for a while, but now it was harder to deny it.

Still, Meis wasn’t going to ask for more than what he already had, it would be asking too much with the way they had to live their lives. 

▲▲▲  
  


Sometimes Meis would lie awake and think about that night, even though it feels as if it happened in another lifetime, when they had to live on the run, on the fringe of society. He and Gueira had carried on as usual afterwards, causing trouble like they were prone to do, working in sync, it was second nature. Gueira’s strength and tendency to face fights head on paired so well with Meis’ more tactical, speed-based approach to fighting; it was like that from the moment they met and only really got stronger. There’s a reason they were the leaders of Mad Burnish before Lio, and why they remained the top generals, the people Lio counted on most.

Were Gueira and Meis to fight or fall out of their rhythm, they’d have ended up imprisoned, or dead, and if not them then other Burnish who were counting on them, or Lio, who they’d both protect with their lives. They cared too much to let personal issues get in the way of others’ survival. It’s easy to shove personal problems deep in one’s consciousness when you have to live with the constant threat of capture hanging over your head. 

Now when Meis thought about it, he’s laying down in a real bed, under the stable roof of the apartment that he shared with Gueira. He has a job and dumb things to worry about like what to eat for dinner and if he happened to overwater the houseplants. 

The apartment was never truly silent, not with the sounds of the city outside, though at this time of the night they calm to a slow simmer and with enough thoughts is easily drowned out. It was strange to Meis how much things can be so different after such a short time, even if it felt like it happened eons ago.

He planned on never bringing up the kiss again, with luck Gueira will have forgotten it ever happened, he’s good at just letting things go, not thinking too much about any one thing if he can’t do anything with it. Meis was never quite so easy, he tended to overthink things and it’s usually Gueira who can pull him out of it. 

Gueira can’t pull him out of this one though, at least not in the same way. 

  
▲▲▲  
  


Meis wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, no doubt smearing grease onto his face. Today he was helping Lucia work on one of the mechs that’d been on the fritz recently. He’s no expert like she is, but he’s learning. Lucia doesn’t teach so much as she bounces around, her mind working faster than she could explain, but Meis had always been observant and caught on quickly. 

Lucia disappeared into the body of the mech, no doubt in its mechanical innards as she tried to fix whatever was going wrong, leaving Meis on the outside to tend to more basic issues. 

The garage of the Burning Rescue headquarters was always warm, Meis had his hair tied up in a ponytail to keep it off his neck as he worked. At least he could play music, and luckily Lucia didn’t mind metal. 

“Hey slackers it’s lunchtime!” Gueira’s voice rang from the doorway. Meis stuck his head out from behind the mech to see him and Aina both grinning and holding up several brown paper bags. Meis smiled back. 

“What’d ya bring?” He asked, wiping his hands on a rag lying near the toolkit. Gueira’s smile grew wider. 

“Sandwiches!” 

Lucia stuck her head out from inside the mech, two blond and pink hair buns sticking up comically from behind the hatch door, then her face, obscured by red goggles. 

“You get me my meatball sub?” 

“Of course!” Aina said, “but you have to come to the break room to get it.” 

Lucia hopped out from the mech and practically chased Aina out of the garage, their laughter floating behind them. 

Gueira watched after them, then turned to Meis. 

“I got your favorite, BLT with extra bacon and mayo.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Gueira beamed and turned to follow him to have their lunch.

They get to the break room and find Galo and Lio sitting at the table, already eating their sandwiches while Remi, Ignis and Varys were still unwrapping theirs. Aina slid into a seat and Lucia followed. She tore a piece of sauce covered bread off of her sandwich and gave it to Vinny. Galo and Lio were watching something on Galo’s phone, leaning on each other so they could both see the small screen. Galo fully descended into peals of laughter and Lio looks like he’ll break at any moment, a hand over his mouth.

Gueira and Meis take seats next to Lio as usual, Gueira leaned over onto Lio to try and see what was so funny. He sat back upright.

“It’s a cat video,” he reported, making Meis snort a laugh. Galo leaned over Lio to show them the video next and soon the entire table dissolved into laughter. 

“Okay everyone simmer down a moment,” Ignis’ voice carried over the racket, but it took a few moments for everyone to quiet down. He waited patiently, he had a lot of practice. Meis glanced at Gueira, watching him take a comically large bite of his sandwich and struggle to chew it without issue. 

“Thank you,” Ignis stroked his moustache before continuing, “Anyway, I’ll keep this short.”

He took a pause to look at everyone around the table before continuing. 

“There’s an opening gala for the new community center being held in a month, we’ve been asked to help set up and attend. You all need to keep that night free of any other plans because this is not an optional event.”

The room is quiet for a moment, a rarity in the usual chaos of Burning Rescue Unit 3. An event seemed in order for the grand opening of the newly finished community center, a part of the Promopolis Rebuild Project that they’d all been involved in. Though Meis did remember helping burn the old one to rubble, and he wasn’t exactly proud of that memory.

“Yeah I have a question,” Galo started, “if we’re all at a party, who’s on duty in case there’s a fire?” 

And the chaos starts right back up again, everyone already talking over each other excitedly at the announcement. Gueira turned to Meis, he had marinara sauce on his chin and Meis gestures to his own chin to let him know. 

“Ah thanks,” Gueira wiped his chin, “but a gala huh? Sounds fancy.”

“I think it’s ‘gal-uh’ not ‘gay-luh’” Meis said. Gueira rolled his eyes. 

“Potato po-tah-to. Don’t fancy people say ‘gay-luh’? Like,” he switches to what Meis assumes is a ‘fancy person voice’, “Chives, dear we’re going to the ‘gay-luh’ and I cannot seem to find my Gucci slides.” 

“Gucci slides? To a gala?” Meis asked in mock offense, “I would never.”

“Yeah I know you’re just going to wear cowboy boots.” 

“Gotta represent y’know?”

“Dude, I’m wearing sneakers.”

“Wow, that’s hot,” Meis said, getting a playful shove in response. He shoved Gueira back and braced himself for retaliation, only to be interrupted by Ignis.

“Hey, knock it off you two I’m not done yet.” 

“Yes sir!” They both responded in unison. Gueira put his hands behind his back and flashed Ignis a sheepish grin, Meis just raised an eyebrow. 

“Ahem.” Ignis addressed the squad again, “To answer your questions; yes, dressing up is required, no a shirt made to look like a tuxedo doesn’t count, Galo, no matter how funny it would be.”

Galo let out a dejected “aww,” which got a laugh out of Ignis, somehow. He was fairly fond of Galo, but who wasn’t? Even Meis thought he was charming, and that’s not just because he was dating Lio. 

Meis listened to the rest of Ignis’ spiel with only mild interest, chin resting in his hand. It’s certainly a different life, working and being expected to go to a gala (that might also be a charity event? Meis felt strange about being the attendee to a charity event, it sounded so stuffy). He didn’t even own fancy clothes, he’d have to spend some of this month’s food budget on a suit and he was not pleased about that. At least he and Gueira split the bills. 

And what does anyone do at these things? Dance? Meis didn’t like dancing. And getting too drunk was on Ignis’ list of Definitely-Do-Nots. Needless to say, this didn’t sound like fun at all, but at least he’d have Gueira to goof around with. Things couldn’t be too dull when Gueira was around. 

“Hey, Meis?” he felt a light jab at his shoulder and blinked out of his thoughts. Gueira was leaning in front of him, eyes wide with curiosity.

“What?”

“Oh wow you were really spacing out,” Gueira said, “Lunch is over.” 

Meis looked down at the half eaten sandwich in front of him and grimaced. Guess he’d have to save it for his break. 

“Okay, yeah.”

Gueira already crossed the room to the door, but he threw one last look over his shoulder at Meis and grinned.

“Yeah, see ya after work Cowboy!” Gueira said, giving a little wave as he left the break room behind Galo and Aina. Meis watched him leave, an odd feeling settling in his chest. Then he wrapped his sandwich up and left it in the fridge before leaving to join Lucia back in the garage. 

▲▲▲

That night the usual crowd crammed into Galo and Lio’s apartment for a movie night. Galo loved hosting them and as expected went all-out with an assortment of snacks and drinks. He and Lio had made a really cozy home for themselves too, the couch is plush and comfortable and it always smells like homecooked food. Meis and Gueira live in the same building as them, so they’re around a lot. 

Meis sat on the floor in front of the couch, letting Aina attempt some elaborate braided hair style on him while she chatted with Gueira about the results of a recent soccer match. Meanwhile, Galo and Varys argued over what movie to watch as Lio egged them both on, looking much too amused with himself for his own good. Galo wanted Shrek 2, claiming it to be a cinematic masterpiece, and Varys wanted Sky High, a similarly acclaimed movie. Lio hadn’t seen either, so the two are trying to make the best pitches they can to win him over. In true Lio fashion, he pretended to not know which to choose just to make them both work harder.

“Aina we need a tie breaker and Lio isn’t helping!” Galo said, “Which one do we do?” 

“Flip a coin, I’m not settling this,” she replied. 

“Oh good idea!”

“Thanks Aina!” Varys said. Aina turned back to Gueira, giving him a small shrug. 

“Anyway, I want to take Lucia to a game, but I’m not sure she’d be interested, seems like a bad way to possibly ask her out,” Aina said, finishing yet another tiny braid and pinning it with the rest of them.

“You have tickets?” Gueira asked. Meis could tell by his tone that he’s asking to maybe wheedle his way into getting to see a soccer match. It was either that he’s not subtle or Meis knew him too well.

“Yeah, two for a game next weekend,” she said, “Maybe you’d want to go, Gueira. Not as a date obviously.” 

Then she laughed, “Wouldn’t want to step on Meis’ toes.” 

Meis blinked. Aina had to be joking. She had to know he and Gueira were _just friends_. He chanced a glance at Gueira, who avoided his gaze with eyes averted to the ceiling, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“It’s not, no you wouldn’t be steppin’ on anyone’s toes,” Meis started, hating how he stumbled through that sentence. It’s not like he’s lying, he has no problem with Aina and Gueira going to a soccer match. They’re not dating. 

Aina blinked, “What-?”

“Yeah no, it ain’t like that,” Gueira said quickly, “Ain’t that at all.”

Now poor Aina just looked confused, letting the braid she was working on drop and unfurl and looking between the two so fast her ponytail almost hit her in the face. 

“Wait. You’re not…?”

“We’re not dating.” Meis managed. Gueira nodded along vigorously.

“Not dating, not dating at all,” he added.

“I’m so sorry, I totally thought you were!” Aina said in earnest, apologetic, “I just thought from how you two act… Sorry!” 

Meis knew he was flushed, judging by the warmth spreading over his face and down his neck, even as he tried to will it away. 

“No!” Gueira waved his hands, looking anywhere but at Meis, “No, it’s fine! But yeah we’re just friends.”

The way Gueira said that made Meis’ chest hurt, a lump rose in his throat that he had to swallow back.

“Yeah just friends,” he added stiffly. Gueira didn’t look at him.

“My bad... I shouldn’t have assumed,” Aina said with a nervous laugh, “Nobody really said you weren’t, but I guess they never said you were either.” 

Meis felt bad, it’s not as if Aina would have known, but the fact that she assumed made him nervous. Was he that obvious about his feelings? He didn’t think he was but now... 

“Don’t worry about it!” Gueira said, “It’s no big deal, but…”

For the first time since the conversation started he glanced at Meis, who immediately avoided his eyes, feeling as if he’d burst into flames if did. He’d never felt so embarrassed around Gueira, and it made him slightly sick.

“Yeah,” Gueira finished lamely. Meis made a choked ‘hm’ noise in agreement. 

“Oookay.” Aina said, clearly still embarrassed. Again, Meis’ heart went out to her for bringing it up in the first place. If he felt awkward, she must also feel just as awkward.

“Well, then Gueira, do you want to go to a soccer match?” Aina asked slowly, bringing the conversation back into comfortable territory. At this Gueira lit up. 

“Uh yeah? I haven’t gone to one in so long!” He said, bouncing a little in his excitement. It’s cute, that’s the only coherent thought Meis had to offer himself. Except maybe that he really, really appreciated Aina. 

“Cool, I’ll text you the details,” she said, “It’ll be hype.” 

At this point Meis tuned the conversation out, face still burning. It’s not as if nobody asked the question before, hell when they met Lio he thought they were a couple. At first Meis hadn’t cared, in fact it’d been funny to imagine falling in love with his best friend in the entire world.

However, Meis would be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t thought about it, before and after that night they kissed and decided that it wasn’t right. Maybe then it really hadn’t been, though Meis was never quite convinced. 

Still, as Meis sat there and listened to his friends chatter around him, he caught Gueira’s eyes on him and breathed an inward sigh of relief to see him grinning. He returned the smile with as much enthusiasm as he could. 

Once the movie actually started and he and Gueira settled next to each other on the couch, Meis was hyper-aware of how they’re shoulder to shoulder even though they sit together like this all the time and nothing should be different. He took a handful of popcorn from the bowl Gueira balanced between the both of them; the movie started with music and the title flashing onscreen, not that Meis paid attention to what it said or what was happening, as all he could focus on was what exactly would make it seem like he and Gueira were dating, and maybe that he needed to be a little more guarded. Sitting as they were wasn’t helping, Gueira turning to Meis when something funny happened wasn’t helping either. Meis laughed along with him, the unsettled feeling in his chest only growing stronger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so... Promare am I right? I like it a normal amount. 
> 
> I'm [@Livgrapefruits](https://twitter.com/livgrapefruits) on Twitter if you wanna yell with me about Meis and Gueira because I really love them both. They're chaotic and in love and that's that. My personal headcanon is that these two have actually been together for a long, long time like they just have that energy (matching thematic tattoos... hello?) but I needed to write this fic in particular so here you go.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Next chapter will be from Gueira's POV so that'll be a fun time. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

“So... ?” 

Aina gave Gueira an expectant look from over the pile of food in her arms. Gueira walked alongside her as they made their way to their seats in the stadium, carrying entirely too many snacks and drinks just to split between them. Gueira wanted nachos, Aina wanted chicken nuggets, they both had beers and of course one couldn’t forget chips and caramel popcorn. He’d rather focus on all of that than the tone of Aina’s voice. It made him think he’d regret wanting to elaborate. 

“What?” He asked, having to raise his voice over the bustle of people around them going to their seats. 

“What’s the deal with you and Meis?” Aina asked, “the other day was really awkward.” 

Gueira swallowed. Meis had been acting strange since that movie night. At first Gueira hadn’t really noticed, but he finally did when one evening they were sitting on the couch and Meis awkwardly moved aside when Gueira went to lean on him when usually they can curl up together under a blanket on the couch no problem. Or at work when Gueira swung by on his break to bring Meis his usual coffee order and Meis took the to-go cup with a mumbled ‘thanks’ and avoided any further conversation when normally they would hang out until they were ordered to get back to work. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Gueira lied. He’d been feeling weird since it happened, not that he blamed Aina, but things weren’t sitting right and he wasn’t sure what to do. Things had never been so awkward between them, not even since the night they accidentally kissed. Somehow they’d moved on from that easily, even if Gueira thought about it too much.

“Gueira come on,” Aina said as they sat down. She’d managed to get really good seats for the game, the view of the field was perfect. Gueira wanted to appreciate that more than he wanted to dwell on his love life.

“We weren’t lying, we’re just friends!” Gueira said, “I dunno what you want from me!” 

He wished the match would start already so Aina wouldn’t ask him any more questions, but sadly the universe wasn’t going to help him today.

“I just wanna know if something’s up,” Aina said, “I mean…”

“What?”

“I mean you like him, don’t you?” She asked, as if it were obvious. 

“What?! No!” Gueira sputtered, “Why would you think  _ that _ ?”

Aina raised an eyebrow, “Have you seen how you two are? Also you seem pret-ty worked up about it.” 

“Am not!”

“You’re blushing!” 

Gueira slapped his cheeks with his palms and groaned.

“It’s not my fault! You’re heckling me!”

“I am not! I want to help you, if you’ll stop being ridiculous,” Aina said, crossing her arms indignantly, “Lio and Galo were in the same situation, remember? And I helped them both.” 

Gueira wouldn’t call it the same, but he remembered thinking it was funny how the two of them couldn’t see that the other was very obviously smitten. It was so obvious; Galo wasn’t subtle and Lio made it a point to drop hints as much as he could, even when Galo wasn’t picking up on them and Lio himself was in denial. 

“Why do you care anyway?” Gueira asked. 

“You’re my friend? Also watching you two is painful.” 

“Argh!” Gueira ran a hand through his curls, messing them up even more. Then he sighed, putting his arms behind his head and leaning back in his seat. 

“Fine,” he said, “I may possibly be in love with Meis. Ya happy now?”

Despite the fanfare it wasn’t hard to get Gueira to break down over this, it had only taken Lio one question to get Gueira to spill; he may have difficulty handling emotions but he sure did have a lot of them, and the floodgates keeping them back weren’t locked. 

Aina nodded, clearly satisfied with his answer. 

“I’ll take that. So why haven’t you said anything to him?” 

Gueira sighed again. In simple terms, he felt stupid. He felt stupid for a lot of reasons and considered ‘in love with his best friend’ to be one of them. It didn’t matter that said best friend was amazing and incredibly attractive and always down for Gueira’s dumb ideas because he  _ understood _ the weird way his mind works and makes him feel like he was worth listening to. Meis was an incredible person and he could probably have anyone he really wanted. Gueira wasn’t sure he was worthy.

“Because it’s not that easy. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? I’m not good at this stuff.” 

“Nobody is, I still haven’t been able to say anything to Lucia,” Aina said, resting her chin in her hand, “I mean, I had an opportunity but I decided against it… was that stupid?”

“Nah, you thought about what she’d enjoy and decided to bring someone else to spare her boredom, I think that’s pretty good.” 

At this Aina flushed a little, “Thanks, I’m glad you think that.”

Then she continued, “But you know Meis better than anyone, you know what he’d like to do, so I don’t think date ideas are your problem.” 

“No yeah, I wanna get tickets to see a band he likes.” 

“See, there you go.”

“But I’d do that even if I didn’t have any sorta feelings for him, y’know?”

“Yeah, but you could  _ tell _ him, and then your intentions would be clear.” 

“Yeah okay, but…” Gueira lowered his voice to a mumble, “Meis doesn’t feel that way about  _ me _ .” 

He might as well vent out the biggest obstacle he saw in this whole situation: that he was pining for someone who saw him as a friend and nothing more. Gueira would never assume Meis shared his feelings, he just had no reason to believe it. 

At this Aina gave him a sympathetic smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Gueira, are you serious?” Aina said, clearly trying to hold in a bit of laughter, “He’s crazy about you.” 

Even if Gueira didn’t believe it, it felt really good to hear.

“Ya think so?” he asked, a little bashfully. 

“Um, yeah.” Aina said, “Absolutely totally yeah. I would be shocked if he didn’t.” 

Gueira shrugged, “I dunno… I mean he’s not the most open guy ever but… I feel like Meis would’ve said something by now.” 

There was also the fact that they kissed once and nothing came of it, but Gueira thought he might die of embarrassment if he said that. He hated how bad it made him feel, being that close and then not getting anywhere. If Meis had felt the same, they would have started dating a long time ago, right? 

Aina continued, “probably because he feels the exact same way as you and he’s not sure what to do.”

Gueira considered this point. Not knowing what to do? Meis? That wouldn’t make any sense. Meis  _ always _ knew what to do. He shook his head. 

“Nah, come on Aina! I appreciate you trying to give me some confidence, but I dunno how to even- I mean...” he stumbled a bit, but he wasn’t even sure what excuse to dredge up, considering that there’s really nothing stopping him from telling Meis his feelings. Except fear, which he’d never admit to. 

“How to tell him?” Aina said helpfully. Gueira shrugged. 

“That’s one thing.” 

“What else is there?”

“A lot!” Gueira whined, “It’s just complicated!” 

He drew his jacket tighter around himself, a childish frown, almost a pout really, on his face. 

Aina sighed. 

“It’ll be okay. I mean, at least you’re not in denial anymore.” 

“You forced me to say it!” 

“I thought you two started dating a long ago can you really blame me for asking questions?” 

“Fine. But I’m still not even sure I should tell him.” 

“You should. Or you could pine for each other for the next one hundred years while the rest of us watch in agony, whatever works.” 

“Aina...” Gueira groaned, “That’s mean.” 

Then he yelped when Aina playfully punched him in the arm. 

“Cheer up bro, we’ve got a match to enjoy!” She said with a good-natured laugh, “Here, I’ll share my chicken nuggets even though I wanna eat them all myself.” 

That lightened Gueira’s mood, he laughed as he took a nugget and dunked it in barbecue sauce, determining that he could set aside his anxieties in favor of a fun day shouting and chanting in a stadium full of people. 

▲▲▲

By the time Gueira got back to his apartment, it was early evening, and as soon as he opened the front door he was met with the warm smell of something cooking. He stuck his head into the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Meis glanced up at him, “How was the game?” 

Even in sweatpants and a band t-shirt that he only wears around the apartment, with hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, he looked completely stunning. Gueira had to remember to shut his mouth and not gawk. 

“It was fun,” Gueira said, “Everyone here gets super into it, so the crowd got a little rowdy. They guys next to us got into a fistfight and spilled my beer.” 

“That sucks,” Meis still wasn’t really looking at him. Gueira watched him push onions around a frying pan with a spatula. It smelled incredible, they must be caramelized onions.

“Hope you don’t mind omelettes for dinner, it’s all I was feeling without going to the store. I’m putting onions in ‘em so they’re a bit fancier.” 

Meis had been learning how to cook from Galo, and he actually seemed to enjoy it. Gueira was a little more hopeless, like Lio was. Both of them really shouldn’t be around a stove. 

“Fuck no I don’t mind!” Gueira raised his fists over his head in triumph. 

“Good.”

Gueira let the conversation drop there and hung up his jacket in the little closet near the front door. He took off his sneakers, lining them up next to a pair of Meis’ combat boots and a pair of red crocs Gueira received as a gag gift from Lio.

“I’ll go shower…” he said, “Unless dinner is ready?”

“It won’t be for a bit, go on,” Meis gestured to the hallway. Gueira stole one last look at him before retreating back into the bathroom. 

He turned the water on as hot as it would go and stood for a moment pretending this were a dramatic moment in a movie and not him washing up after spending the day at a sporting event. 

It’d only been about a week since Aina assumed they were dating, yet the odd distance that’d wedged itself between them felt like it spanned far longer. Gueira didn’t like it. 

He couldn’t bring himself to question whether Meis hated him or not, surely it wasn’t like that, but had Gueira been too forthcoming about his feelings and now that Meis caught on he was keeping him at an arm’s length to let him down easy? Was this a wordless rejection, a warning for Gueira to keep his distance? The thought of distance from Meis made Gueira’s stomach turn, and as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair he wondered if it wouldn’t be best to just let Meis have the distance he wants. 

After his shower he returned to the kitchen. Meis had turned on the TV to some mindless cooking show, though it seemed all of his attention was on it. He leaned on the counter that separated the living room and kitchen, his back turned to the stove.

“Fuckin’ idiot, usin’ the ice cream machine,” Meis said, clearly thinking he was still alone, “it never works.” 

It would be near impossible for Gueira to distance himself, this he knew as soon as he looked at Meis shaking his fist at the TV and cursing that one of the chefs decided to make risotto.

“‘Aye Meis.” 

“Oh, hey.” Meis caught his eye and half-smiled, “Have a good shower?”

“Yeah.” Gueira said, moving to sit on one of the stools on the other side of the counter but turned toward the TV. Whatever he was watching looked like complete chaos, which made it kind of fun. 

“You didn’t run out of hot water did you?” It ran out earlier and I had to rinse off in ice water,” Meis said, “Stupid tiny water heater.” 

“Maybe you just take too long,” Gueira said, glancing at him with a teasing grin. Meis rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. 

“Well your hair doesn’t take as long to wash.” 

“It does too, it’s dense!” 

“Just like your head, Miami.” 

Gueira didn’t like to think about the fact that he always blushed a little at that nickname. 

Then he smelled burning. 

“Um, Meis?” 

Meis perked up, then his eyes went wide.

“Shit!” He turned back to the stove and Gueira couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned over the counter to try and get a look. Meis had been too distracted by the TV and left the omelettes cooking for far too long, resulting in a charred mess they’re lucky didn’t set off the fire alarm. That pan would be a nightmare to clean later too, and Gueira had dish duty when Meis cooks. 

Meis sighed and pushed his hair out of his face, only to have it fall right back over his eye, but not before Gueira could catch a rare glimpse at Meis’ whole face. Were Meis to ever just stop wearing his hair over his eye, he’d be a little too powerful, at least in Gueira’s opinion. 

“Fuck! Well, that’s ruined,” Meis swore, “Damn it.” 

Gueira chuckled, hands behind his head.

“Well, I guess we gotta start over.”

“Let’s go out. I’m not starting over,” Meis said, shaking his head, “I’ll go change.”

“Oh, in that case we’re going to that place with those really good hot wings.”

“Fine,” Meis called from down the hall as his disappeared into his room, “I could use a beer.” 

Burning dinner must’ve upset him more than Gueira realized. Usually the two would laugh together at mishaps like this, like when the bathroom almost flooded, but considering the recent atmosphere maybe Meis was just not feeling up to it. 

Gueira grabbed his jacket and keys.

“You wanna invite the Boss and Galo?” he asked. 

“Sure.” 

▲▲▲

This bar on the other side of Promopolis doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it has some of the best food in town in Gueira’s opinion. He made quick work of his first beer and was almost done with a basket of hot wings, half watching the football game on the TV across the bar and half listening to Lio, Meis and Galo chat about the upcoming gala event. Galo seems excited, which is no shock, but it’s odd how much interest Lio had taken in the event, joining Galo in animated discussion about decorations or something. Meis didn’t say much, he just toyed with the bracelet he was wearing, a black suede band with silver spikes on it. It had been a birthday gift from Gueira, and it always made him feel good when he saw Meis wearing it.

A few drinks in and Galo had his arm around Lio’s shoulders, attacking the side of his face with kisses while Lio made a half-hearted attempt to swat him away. They were mid-conversation about something that happened at work the other day, something which Gueira hadn’t been around to see. 

Meis leaned on the bar still drinking his second beer and looking at his phone. He was nowhere near tipsy and wouldn’t be anytime soon, he could probably drink Galo under the table if he had to. Gueira kind of wanted to see that, actually. 

He watched Lio and Galo flirt with each other with a mixture of happiness, fondness and a twinge of envy. They’d fallen together easily, maybe they needed a push to get over their nerves, although in the end neither took anyone’s advice and Galo ended up confessing his love to Lio in the frozen food section of the grocery store, but it clearly worked out. 

“Y’know,” Gueira leaned closer to Meis and gestured toward the couple with his beer glass, “sometimes I kinda envy those two.” 

If he’s this loose lipped three drinks in, he worried how much worse it could possibly get. Or maybe he doesn’t care. Meis glanced to his right at Lio and Galo, then back to Gueira on his other side. 

“Yeah,” he said, “They’re gonna give me a fucking cavity.” 

“But man a love like that just…” Gueira rested his chin on his hand and sighed. He chanced a sidelong glance at Meis and smiled at how the low light in the bar made his hair look almost black and how it fell around his shoulders in inky waves. His leather jacket hung on the back of his chair, and Gueira could see the bottom of Meis’ tattoo from under the sleeve of his shirt. 

“How nice do you think it is?” 

Meis snorted, “damn Gueira you’re getting all soft.” 

Then his voice lowered to where Gueira could barely hear it over the music, “I’m happy for them, though.” 

Gueira put his glass down, looking around the half-empty bar for a moment; the wood shelves behind the counter stacked with bottles, the pool table in the back corner, the few other occupied tables around them. It’s almost calm, the music wasn’t so loud tonight. 

“Yeah,” Gueira continued, “I dunno I just… well the last time I dated someone it ended badly and it made me really not wanna get back into it.” 

Why he decided to get into that, he could never say. He’d blame the beer. 

“What happened?” Meis asked. 

They’d never really talked about these things from their past lives, before becoming Burnish, it’d never really seemed to matter. They met under circumstances that were less than ideal, the subject of past lovers weren’t at the top of anyone’s mind. 

Gueira just scratched the top of his head, “Ah nothin’ huge, he was just a jerk.” 

In a typical way, Gueira didn’t really think it mattered other than the fact that he didn’t like to think about him.

“An’ I dated a girl in high school, that didn’t really last long,” Gueira said, “Then I realized I was bi and did some hooking up. I dunno, none of it was all that good.” 

Meis’ expression was indecipherable, an odd mixture of deep in thought and curious maybe. 

“How about you though, I’m sure you’ve got some good stories.” 

“Hm.” Meis paused to take a drink, “before I dropped out a guy I dated in college cheated on me, So my last relationship didn’t end well either.” 

Gueira’s mouth dropped open. 

“ _ Who _ would cheat on you? What kind of ungrateful asshole would go to anyone else when he has you?” he slammed his beer down, “he needs his ass kicked!”

“It’s in the past,” Meis said, “Don’t get too fired up about it.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that I couldn’t imagine doing that… and to you! I mean did he not realize he had the most amazing guy ever?”

Gueira doesn’t even care that he let that slip, it’s not as if Meis doesn’t deserve to know. 

Meis laughed, “That’s a stretch.” 

“I mean it!” Gueira made a frustrated noise that was somewhat like a growl and took an angry swig from his beer, wiping the foam off his lip with the back of his hand. 

“That kinda shit just gets me, y’know? Like, some people have no fucking idea what they have and they act like complete fuckheads!”

Meis blinked at him, seemingly stunned. Then the sides of his lips curled up in a bitter smile.

“He was an asshole. He wanted me back after it happened too, tellin’ me he’d changed an’ that I was the best he’d ever had.”

It was clearly an old wound, but it probably still gets to him. Gueira wanted nothing more than to tell Meis that he’d never, ever on his life put him through something like that. In fact he’d never wanted to look anywhere else since meeting Meis. 

“Damn right you were.” Gueira said, “what a loser.”

Meis’ grin was wide enough to show sharp teeth. Gueira was just happy to see him smiling again. 

“Yeah, that fuckin’ loser.” 

Gueira raised his glass even though it was almost empty. 

“Here’s a toast: to your shit ex boyfriend. He let a good one get away, may he rest in pieces.”

“Here here.” Meis clinked his glass to Gueira’s with a grin. 

“What’re you two toasting for?” Lio asked, leaning closer to the two of them.

“Oh, Meis was just telling me about one of his shitty exes, so we toasted to him being terrible.” 

“Kill ‘em with kindness, I like it!” Galo said. 

“Nah if I saw him I wouldn’t be kind,” Meis said. 

“Kill ‘em for reals, I’m less into that but I get it!” Galo said with as much enthusiasm as before. Lio laughed, the two of them going back into whatever conversation they’d been having before, Gueira was too drunk and too focused on Meis to remember.

Meis turned to him and smirked. 

“Most amazing guy ever, huh?” He asked, elbowing Gueira, who blushed a little on top of the rosiness from drinking already on his cheeks. 

“Shut up you already knew that!”

“Did I?” Meis asked.

At this Gueira sobered a little. 

“I mean- you’re my best friend so of course I’d say that!” He was digging himself deeper, and he knew that, “Why wouldn’t you be my favorite person on Earth?”

“Oh so now I’m your favorite person too?” 

“Agh when you  _ say _ it like that-!” Gueira’s whole face was red and he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, avoiding Meis’ cocky smile.

“Hey,” Meis’ expression softened, “You’re my favorite person on Earth too.” 

Gueira thought he might fall out of his seat. 

“Well, thanks...” Gueira mumbled back lamely. 

“Just don’t tell the Boss, okay?” Meis said, holding a finger to his lips to illustrate the joke. Gueira met his smile with one of his own, bright and happy drunk and absolutely smitten. 

He then proceeded to get absolutely wasted. It was a horrible idea and he knew it, especially as he leaned on Meis while they walked home, or rather Meis walked, Gueira stumbled alongside him with an arm around his shoulders to keep himself upright. 

When they got drunk together they were usually the life of the party, but Meis was stone cold sober and practically having to drag Gueira’s drunk ass down the street.

“Maybe we needed a cab,” Lio said, looking rather cozy wrapped up in Galo’s oversize jacket. Galo walked beside him, breezily as ever in a tight t-shirt, unphased by the cold. 

“No point now, we’re almost back,” he said. 

Gueira rested his head on Meis’ shoulder, the cool leather of his jacket felt good against his too-warm cheek. 

“Don’t pass out before we get home,” Meis said. He sounded amused, which made Gueira feel less bad. 

“I won’.” Gueira said, “Next time though you gotta get drunk with me.”

Meis looked straight ahead so Gueira could only see a curtain of dark hair and the end of his nose. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling it tonight,” he said. 

They got to their apartment complex and said bye to Lio and Galo, who lived on a different floor of the building. Meis unlocked the door and Gueira stumbled in, plodding down the hallway to his room. 

“‘Night Gueira,” Meis called after him. 

“G’night.” 

Gueira got into bed in a haze, and he didn’t remember falling asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gueira acts tough but he's not fooling anyone, he has resting >:3 face and we love him for that. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one won't be out quite as fast because I have work and then work-related design training stuff next week but it shouldn't be too long. It's like half written as I'm posting this chapter. Thank you for reading!
> 
> || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/livgrapefruits) ||


	3. Chapter 3

After helping a drunken Gueira home the night before, Meis expected to have to help him get out of bed for work in the morning. He dealt with hungover Gueira enough times now to know exactly how to prepare, getting up just a bit early to put some bread in the toaster and start a smoothie. It was still dark outside, the daytime shift at Burning Rescue started early, and Meis yawned as he cut the tops off strawberries and put them in the blender. 

Then he went to Gueira’s room and let himself in.

“Morning,” Meis switched the lights on and took a moment to grimace at the mess of clothes strewn all over the floor and some dishes that didn’t make it back to the kitchen. There’s not much else other than a bed and dresser but the room is cozy, in a messy sort of way. 

Somewhere in a tangle of blankets and a comforter, Gueira nestled himself in bed to the point of being almost hidden, given away only by the top of his unruly red curls. 

“Gueira,” Meis tried, “Hey.”

Gueira groaned and rolled over, sticking an arm out of the covers and waving Meis away. 

“Nuhhh...” 

“On a scale of one to death how bad is your hangover?” Meis teased, meaning to be affectionate. He was met with another groan. 

“Six… but lemme die anyway.”

Meis approached his bed, hands on his hips. 

“Come on, I made toast,” he said. “That’ll settle your stomach.”

“Did you cut the crusts off…?” Gueira asked, his voice muffled by all the blankets. He sounded so sad, Meis had to laugh a little.

“Of course,” he said.

The covers shifted again, and finally Gueira stuck his head out, clearly trying to glare but he only ended up looking very tired. The light was making him squint, and he already looked a bit like a zombie with his hazy eyes underlined with dark circles. Though Meis felt bad for him, he’d also seen him in far worse shape several times before. Gueira can be dramatic.

“Do we have strawberry jam?” Gueira asked warily. 

Meis rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, given away by the smile on his face.

“If we didn’t you’d rampage,” he replied, “Now c’mon, we’ll be late.” 

Gueira rubbed his eyes and yawned like a cat before he emerged from his fortress, just in boxers and a t-shirt. He moved forward to drape his arms over Meis’ shoulders. 

“Thanks,” he burrowed his head against Meis’ neck, “I dunno if I feel good enough to work.”

Meis stood for a moment, frozen, before wrapping his arms around Gueira’s shoulders. This didn’t have to be weird if he didn’t make it weird. It wasn’t always weird, Meis was just reading too far into it. He rubbed Gueira’s back absently. 

“How ‘bout you try and eat something and see,” he said softly.

“Okay… but only cuz you made me breakfast,” Gueira said, squeezing Meis tighter. His breath was warm on the skin of Meis’ neck and his hair tickled his nose. He sighed, pulling Gueira up a little so he would be easier to drag to the kitchen. It took some effort, and even more struggle to pry him off and Meis was admittedly a little reluctant to do so, but eventually he did and he could finish making breakfast.

“Are you at the station today?” Meis asked, spreading jam on a piece of toast. Gueira nodded.

“Yeah, I’m on duty with Aina and Galo. You?”

“Lucia ‘n I are testing the construction mechs tomorrow so we gotta do some last minute things.” 

“Ah, probably good I’m not on that team.”

“Probably. Take it easy today, I’m sure Galo’ll cover you.” 

“Yeah,” Gueira eyed the toast and smoothie set in front of him, expression just hinting at a smile. He was no morning person anyway, but today he was especially low-energy; it’s an odd look on him. Meis wasn’t used to it, and he didn’t think he wanted to be. 

“Eat something, I’ll be back,” Meis went to his room to get dressed: the usual black tank top and uniform pants. He threw on his uniform jacket too, knowing the early spring chilliness called for it, and pulled his hair back into a bun. 

When he came back to the kitchen Gueira was picking at half eaten toast, but at least he’d mostly finished the smoothie.

“We gotta go,” Meis said, “you’re riding with me, no way you’re takin’ Miami II out today.” 

“But what if instead of that I just… lay on the couch and wait for you to get home?” Gueira said, looking at him with pleading eyes, and Meis had to use all of his willpower not to cave in. 

“I’m not leavin’ you here alone.”

“Then stay home with me?” Gueira asked. His tone made Meis’ heart skip. Instantly his mind took off with what he’d  _ want _ to do if they both skipped work just to stay with each other all day, maybe they’d get really bored and... 

Meis snapped himself back to reality, looking away so his bangs would hide the flush on his cheeks.

“Nice try, but Ignis ain’t takin’ hooky lightly. And after the sprayable cheese fiasco I think you might wanna stay on his good side.” 

Gueira’s brow furrowed as he considered the repercussions of his actions. Then he stood up. 

“Fine. But drive slow.” 

“No promises,” Meis said, watching Gueira pad down the hall to his room, pressing his lips into a thin line as that annoying flutter in his chest started again. 

▲▲▲

“Yikes.” Lio said when he entered the breakroom. Meis glanced up from his phone, then looked at Gueira, who was slumped on the couch with his giant burning rescue jacket zipped all the way up to his chin and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He’d borrowed a pair of Aina’s sunglasses and had them on, even though they were indoors. 

“Hangover,” Meis said. Lio raised an eyebrow.

“Oof that sucks,” he said in a much louder voice than necessary, which made Gueria groan.

“Boss, please.”

“Sorry.” Lio snickered, not sorry at all. Galo entered the room, took one look at Gueira and laughed. 

“Looks like someone’s feeling last night!”

“You guys are so mean!” Gueira exclaimed, “Meis help me.”

Meis smiled warmly and pushed a cup of coffee with too much creamer toward him. 

“Just drink your coffee.” 

Teasing Gueira is too much fun, but Meis also wanted to take care of him. In front of other people though, the most Meis was comfortable with was just helping a little here and there, rather than full on doting. He wondered if Galo, the master in doting on his significant other, would be helpful, but Meis would never ask. 

Gueira took the mug but didn’t drink, just staring down at it like he were trying to decide if it was edible or not. Lio watched from over his own coffee cup in what looked like mild interest. 

It wasn’t clear, and Meis certainly will not ask, what Gueira remembered from last night. He wasn’t blackout drunk so it’s likely he remembered everything and Meis couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or not. 

The way Gueira talked about him, calling him the most amazing guy ever and all of that, made Meis feel… well, really good. He felt like a giddy middle schooler clinging on to the time his crush said one nice thing to him, soon he figured he’d start a diary and write Gueira’s name in it over and over, maybe he’d even dot the i’s with little hearts. Meis was somewhat disgusted with how his brain took one compliment and ran with it. 

He watched Gueira slowly sip his coffee and sink into the couch cushions. Did Gueira realize that he’d made Meis blush when he called him his favorite person in the whole world? That’s not easy to do, though recently it’s been easier. Did Gueira realize what it sounded like when he got angry at Meis’ ex on his behalf? Gueira’s fierce loyalty to those he cares about is something Meis knew well, but it felt different last night. But then again any friend would react like that… Maybe it was just the booze. 

“Hey, Meis.” Lio said, breaking him from his reverie. Meis blinked. 

“Hwhut?” 

“Nice to have you back, we were talking about a beach day since the weather is supposed to warm up, you in?”

“Uh yeah.” Meis missed the entirety of that conversation, looking between the group for a clue but getting nothing. 

“Good.” Lio said, unfazed, “Gueira, what about you?”

Gueira shrugged, the material of his jacket rustling with the gesture. 

“Sure.” 

Then Ignis entered the room and made everyone actually go to their posts for the day. Gueira stumbled off after Galo and Aina, and Meis threw a glance over his shoulder at him as he followed Lucia to the garage. 

She sauntered ahead of him, pulling on her gloves. Vinny scampered past, trying to keep up with Lucia’s long strides. For someone so short she sure did walk fast. 

“Hope you’re not too distracted, we’ve got a ton to do,” she drawled.

“‘M not,” Meis grumbled, which only made Lucia laugh. 

“Okay good, just checking~” she singsonged, flipping the lights on in the garage and illuminating the complete mess of parts and a half-gutted mech in the middle of the paint and oil stained floor. Meis sighed, it was going to be a hectic day. 

Lucia pulled her goggles down and gave Meis a sardonic smile, “Can you get the power drill from the tool room?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pulling his own gloves on and heading to the other side of the garage. After that he just focused on work, and when his mind wandered would ask a question to get Lucia talking to snap him back to reality. 

  
  


▲▲▲

After work Gueira seemed to rally a little, when he met Meis in the break room he had some color back to his complexion and he didn’t look so nauseous. Meis grabbed his bag from his locker. 

“You seem better,” he said. Gueira shrugged. 

“Yeah, kinda.” 

They headed to the parking lot where Dallas II was parked in its usual spot next to Galo’s motorcycle and Detroit II. 

“As I said this morning, if you puke on my bike I’ll kill you,” It was an empty threat and they both knew it.

“You got it,” Gueira does little finger guns before climbing onto the back of the bike after him. 

Arms wrapped around Meis’ waist and Gueira’s cheek pressed against the back of his neck. Of course it’s not the first time either of them have done this, yet Meis felt very aware of Gueira’s hands clasped over his stomach and how he’s essentially seated between Gueira’s thighs. He tried not to think too much as he started the motorcycle and took off toward their apartment. 

Gueira held on as Meis rode down the busy streets of Promopolis. The streetlights just turned on but the sun wasn’t down yet, orange twilight filtering between towering skyscrapers and construction sites. 

Meis stopped at a light and felt Gueira squeeze him just a little tighter.

“You good back there?” He asked, having to shout over the roar of the engine.

“Yeah,” Gueira said. The light changed and Meis rode on ahead. 

He pulled into the parking garage under their apartment complex and parked the motorcycle next to Miami II. Gueira let go, slowly, and dismounted the bike. 

“Your hair was all in my face,” Gueira sputtered. 

“You slobbered on my hair.” Meis said, patting at the now very messy bun at the nape of his neck. 

They squabbled all the way back to their apartment, as they do, playfully shoving each other and throwing empty insults. It was so  _ normal _ , Meis wondered how they were able to always return to this point. 

As soon as Gueira put his bag down he went to the kitchen and threw open the cabinet doors one by one in a frenzied search or who-knows-what, muttering to himself incoherently. Meis watched him, closing each door Gueira left open after he nearly banged his head into one. Then he opened the fridge and rifled through it, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“We don’t have any food!” he complained, shoving a jar of pickles aside. Meis bumped him out of the way with a hip-check, making him stumble.

“Go chill on the couch I’ll make dinner.” Meis said. 

Gueira met his eyes with a smile that warmed him from the inside out. 

“What’re you gonna make?” he asked.

“Mac and cheese?” Meis offered.

“Fuck yes!” Gueira crossed the room and flopped down on the couch, arms in the air in triumph. Then he groaned. 

“Damn it I just sat down and I forgot to get the Switch controller!”

“Can’t help you there,” Meis said, leaning over the counter that separated the tiny living room from the kitchen, “I’m cooking.” 

“Man!” Gueira got up and grabbed the controller before throwing himself back onto the couch.

Mac and cheese isn’t exactly a difficult dish, Galo had taught Meis how to make it from scratch and it turned out to be pretty enjoyable, but the best part was that Meis could watch Gueira play Breath of the Wild and laugh at him when he fell off a cliff or lost to a monster he attempted to fight with a mop. 

It was a quiet evening. Galo and Lio were on a date, Meis knew from Galo’s Instagram, Aina and Varys were at the gym, Remi was working late with Ignis and Lucia was wherever she hid during the time she wasn’t working. Meis was content to be relaxing at home, trying not to burn dinner this time and listening to Guiera swear at a video game. 

After an hour or so he presented Gueira with a bowl of mac cheese topped with breadcrumbs, which Gueira proceeded to dump a ton of hot sauce on and shovel into his mouth. 

“Meis thith ith so good!” he said around a mouthful of food.

“Thank Galo, it’s his recipe.” 

“It’s so good,” Gueira took another huge bite of mac and cheese and took a moment to chew and swallow it before continuing, “it compliments the hot sauce so well.” 

Meis smacked his arm and let Gueira swat him back. 

“I take it you’re feeling better.” 

“Yeah,” Gueira said, “Maybe I should be careful ‘round the beer next time.” 

“You say that every time you drink too much,” Meis said. 

“And one day I’ll do it.”

“Do what you want, I’ll take care of you.” 

Then Meis blanched, he didn’t think it would sound  _ like that _ when he said it out loud. It wasn’t a lie, he’d always take care of Gueira no matter what, but he hadn’t meant to be so  _ obvious. _

“Thanks…” Gueira rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, avoiding Meis’ gaze again. A sinking feeling settled in Meis’ stomach yet again as an air of awkwardness fell between them once again. 

“Yeah, no problem,” Meis said, looking to the other side of the room. An excruciating pause drove the conversation to a grinding halt. Meis cleared his throat, desperate to set things right. 

“You want seconds?” He asked. 

“Sure,” Gueira said. 

▲▲▲

Meis found himself looking through racks of clothing he will never buy, bored by the endless selection of dress shirts and ties. He will never, and he means never, wear a tie. 

“These all kind of suck,” Gueira said, looking at a different clothing rack. The store they were in wasn’t the fanciest in Promopolis, but it was upscale enough to make Meis hate it. He felt out of place in ripped black jeans, a hoodie and heavy combat boots, especially standing next to someone as polished as Lio.

“You at least need a nice shirt,” Lio said, “you don’t need a tie.” 

Gueira picked up a starched white dress shirt and grimaced. 

“This is so stuffy.” 

“How about this?” Lio held up a much less crisp button down in a light blue, one of Gueira’s favorite colors. It didn’t look so stiff and formal. 

“Oh, that’s not bad,” Gueira said. 

“Yeah, that and a bath and you’ll be killin’ it,” Meis agreed. 

“Thanks- hey! I bathe!”

“You use 3-in-1 shampoo conditioner and body wash.” Meis said. 

“He what?” Lio’s eyes went wide with horror. 

“Oh but it gets worse, it’s Irish Spring scent.”

“Gueira!?” Lio asked, as if just learning Gueira had committed a crime. 

“It’s easier!”

“It’s tragic,” Meis said. 

“Go try the damn shirt on,” Lio said. Gueira scrambled into the changing room. 

When he emerged he had the shirt buttoned all the way up and his arms out stiffly by his sides, making him resemble a really strange penguin. Meis shook his head. 

“No, no.” He walked toward Gueira, meeting him at eye level. They’re about the same height normally, nobody could really agree on who was actually taller, especially when Meis wore heeled boots and with Gueira’s tendency to slouch. 

“Lemme fix this,” Meis said, barely above a whisper, reaching toward the collar of Gueira’s shirt. His fingers brushed his neck as he undid the top three buttons of the shirt, one by one.

“You ain’t going to this gala looking like a platinum member of Foresight Foundation,” Meis said, adjusting the collar so that it didn’t lay so flat and stiff. He could just see the edge of Gueira’s tattoo on his collarbone, and if he were really looking, he wouldn’t say he  _ was _ , the bit of darker red hair on his chest, just visible where the shirt buttoned. Meis smoothed the shirt down, trying not to let his hands linger on Guiera’s chest. 

Gueira just stood frozen, face almost as red as his hair. He flashed a bashful grin at Meis, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Thanks Meis.”

“Yeah, gimme your arm,” Meis said, moving to roll Gueira’s sleeves up.

“‘Kay.”

He took his time with that took, undoing the cuffs of the sleeves and rolling them up so they were even above Gueira’s elbows. The shirt actually suited Gueira quite nicely, it was just dressy enough, even though he had jeans on. Gueira’s eyes flitted between Meis and Lio, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

Meis chewed his lip. He’s not one for formal attire but on Gueira it’s ridiculously hot. If this were a black tie event and Gueira were to wear a tuxedo Meis wasn’t sure he’d actually survive that. 

“There,” he said impartially, standing back, “Now it looks good.”

“Yeah you look handsome,” Lio said mildly, tossing a smirk in Meis’ direction, “you should get it.”

Gueira inspected the shirt in the mirror, twisting around this way and that.

“Ya think?” he asked. 

“Yeah, right Meis?” Lio said. 

“Um, yeah totally,” Meis said dumbly, at least he felt dumb saying it. What he wanted to say was that Gueira looked handsome and if Meis had his way he’d have grabbed him by the collar and kissed the daylights out of him by now, even if they were in a somewhat upscale store in the middle of the shopping district.

Gueira blinked at Meis, brow furrowed, and Meis met his eyes, encouraging him with a smile. 

“It does look really good, I agree with Lio you look…” he steeled himself, “handsome.” 

With that, Gueira’s expression cleared, but his eyes wouldn’t leave his shoes. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll get it.” he said, returning to the dressing room and shoving the curtain closed.

After Gueira bought his shirt, the group decided to take a coffee break at a cafe in the mall.

“S’cuse me,” Gueira left the table and headed toward the restrooms, leaving Meis with Lio. 

Meis took a prolonged sip from his cappuccino, eyeing Lio from behind his hair. Lio fidgeted idly with the sleeve of his jacket, which he wore over his tiny shoulders like a cape. He definitely wanted to say something, and rather than ask Meis waited until Lio spoke up, wanting to see where this would go.

“Holy shit Meis.” 

“What?” 

“This is an intervention,” Lio said smoothly, “the flirting has reached insufferable levels, you two need to figure it out.”

Meis leaned back in his chair.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said coolly.

“Nice try, but you’re smarter than that.”

“Thanks Boss,” Meis said carefully. He didn’t like where this was going. 

Lio leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. Even in an oversized shirt half-tucked into dark jeans he looked extremely put together, as usual. It was how he carried himself, Meis found it admirable. 

“When are you gonna tell Gueira that you’re madly in love with him, hm?”

Meis went red. 

“When did I say that?” He said a little too quickly. 

Lio smiled, “You definitely didn’t have to.” 

“Hm.” Meis crossed his arms. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about his feelings for Gueira, he’d rather just keep them close to his heart until the end of time and see where that takes him. He’d always seen that kind of future for himself. 

But he trusted Lio, and he also couldn’t get anything past him. 

“When the time is right.” He said enigmatically. Lio raised an eyebrow. 

“There’s no such thing, you pull the trigger or you don’t.” 

“I  _ will _ .” Meis said, “at some point.”

Lio rolled his eyes, “You’re at a stalemate. I expected Gueira to crack by now, but of course the one time he chooses to hold back it’s over this.”

Meis looked at his coffee cup, the noise around them sounds like a dull roar in his ears. 

“Or he just doesn’t feel the same way I do,” he muttered. 

“And  _ that’s  _ the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” 

Meis grimaced, “wow, thanks Boss.”

“He absolutely does,” Lio said. “He’s like Galo, subtlety isn’t his strong suit.”

“Then how come you didn’t realize Galo liked you until he said something?” Meis shot back smugly. Unfortunately, Lio’s expression didn’t budge. 

”It’s not that I didn’t realize it, I had a feeling but I wanted to be cautious, both with my feelings and for Galo’s comfort. I wasn’t going to assume things,” Lio said, “I think you kind of know that Gueira feels the same way, you’re perceptive. But I get it, you don’t wanna make it weird.” Lio took a sip of his coffee, “And denial is a hell of a drug.” 

“Did Gueira tell you how he feels?” Meis asked. A dumb question, Lio wouldn’t tell him if he had. 

“Neither of you had to say anything,” Lio said, which is just the sort of answer Meis expected from him.

His suspicions of being too obvious were confirmed, and he vowed not to slip up anymore. 

“Fair,” Meis said. Lio sipped his coffee without a word, scanning around the room. It was more like an indoor pavilion situated at the center of the mall, an upscale food court, to put it bluntly, with a glass ceiling and tall palm trees in crisp white planters and tons of tables and chairs for people to congregate at. 

“What’s taking him so long?” Lio asked. Meis shrugged. 

“I dunno- oh there he is.”

Gueira walked toward them, balancing three blue pastry boxes, napkins and forks in his hands. He seemed to be struggling a bit, nearly letting the boxes fall out of his arms as he speed-walked toward them.

“There he is, the man of your dreams,” Lio said lowly, “your prince who uses 3-in-1 soap.”

Meis pressed his palms to his forehead and groaned.

“Don’t  _ say _ it like that.” Even if it was kind of true. 

Lio laughed at him, but thankfully went quiet when Gueira was within earshot. Meis looked up at him and the silly grin on his face. 

“Hey guys I got cinnamon buns!” he said. “Don’t worry I got ‘em after going to the bathroom.”

They did smell incredible, Meis wasn’t sure of the last time he even had a cinnamon bun. Lio grabbed at the boxes as soon as Gueira set them down. 

“Thanks Gueira,” he said. 

“Yeah thanks Gueira,” Meis echoed, taking a box for himself. Gueira sat down and grinned at both of them, barely even getting the cinnamon bun box open before taking a huge bite. The oversize cinnamon buns looked amazing and tasted even better, and it didn’t take long to finish them. The three of them seemed to forget they were in public as they scarfed the pastries down, not caring about manners. 

“Fuck those were good,” Gueira said, “I think I can continue looking at ugly suits.” 

“Well I’m not doing that, I just need new eyeliner,” Meis said. 

“Yeah and I’ve got what I need,” Lio said, glancing down at his phone, “Plus we have to meet up with everyone at the bowling alley in like ten minutes.”

“Oh yeah!” Gueira sprung up from his seat, “Let’s go!” 

Meis watched him run off ahead through the storefront-lined hallway, nearly bumping into a few groups of people on the way. Lio walked next to Meis, hands in his pockets. Then he glanced up, catching Meis’ eye with a knowing smile and gesturing with his shoulder to Gueira.

“You guys’re so slow!” Gueira turned to heckle them, “C’mon last one there buys the pizza!”

“You’re fuckin’ on,” Meis called back, walking faster to catch up to him.

“Language! There’s kids here,” Gueira cackled and broke into a run, and Meis ran to catch up, meeting Gueira’s eyes as he passed with a triumphant smirk. 

“No fair! Meis!” Gueira ran after him, only to be overtaken by Lio. 

“You two are gonna get us kicked out!” he scolded, easily catching up to Meis and passing him, “But only if they catch us.” 

“Boss what the fuck!?” Meis and Gueira called after him. Then they exchanged looks, grinning at each other like total idiots as they ran after Lio in an attempt to catch up. 

They both ended up losing the race, and therefore splitting the cost of pizza for everyone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a BIG fan of the ‘helping the person you have feelings for with their clothes’ trope because I’m weak. Intricate Rituals...  
> Also, Meis taking care of Gueira is very cute to me... (and Gueira will return the favor later, stay tuned)  
> I planned for this fic to be very slice of life-y but there will be some Drama later before the end, I've planned 8 chapters for this fic so we're not even halfway through yet.  
> Aaaaanyway thank you so much for reading! I hope to update in a week but I don't have a set schedule so we'll see!


	4. Chapter 4

Rain pounded on the windows with no sign of letting up. Gueira sighed, pressing his face to the glass, looking out over the grey sky and sidewalks shimmering with the reflected lights of the city, at passing people carrying umbrellas or running to get out of the downpour. 

He’d been looking forward to the beach day everyone had planned, and up until last night it seemed like the weather might cooperate, but they were thoroughly rained out. He probably wouldn’t leave the apartment today. 

“Gueira,” Meis’ voice sounded from beside him. Gueira turned and immediately accepted the mug of hot chocolate handed to him. He hadn’t even asked for any, Meis just made it for himself and must have assumed Gueira would want some too. He thought ahead about that kind of thing, Gueira wished he were better at that. 

“Our beach day is ruined,” Gueira grumbled, taking a sip of hot chocolate without thinking that maybe it was too hot. He sputtered, his tongue burned. 

“Sorry, it’s hot,” Meis teased, knowing his warning was too late. Then he was quiet for a moment, standing next to Gueira at the window, cupping his own mug between his hands and looking out at the rain. 

“This sure ain’t beach weather,” he remarked. Then his voice lowered, almost like he were speaking to just himself, “and I was lookin’ forward to it too, damn.” 

Gueira often thought about how cute Meis’ accent was, usually at the times it was a little more obvious. Honestly, Meis just had a gorgeous voice in general, it was deep and mellow but with a raspy edge that made it downright hot. Sometimes Gueira could hear him sing when he thought nobody was around, and that was enough to make him feel faint. 

“Damn,” Meis said again, pulling Gueira from his thoughts. He took another, careful, sip of hot chocolate. It’d been made with half hot water, half milk, since they didn’t have enough milk for two cups and obviously nobody was going to the store in this weather. It didn’t taste too bad. 

“What’re we gonna do?” Gueira asked, “We’ve got nothin’.”

Meis looked at his phone, “Well, we could go to Galo and the Boss’s place, they’re just playing video games. We wouldn’t even have’ta leave the building.” 

Gueira looked at the downpour outside.

“Hm, good point. I don’t wanna go out there.” 

“Okay, I’ll text ‘em,” Meis said, already texting them back. 

Gueira watched the rain until he finished his hot chocolate, and then he and Meis took the short walk down a few floors to Galo and Lio’s apartment.

  
  
  


“And I’m saying that I could probably eat two whole pizzas, I’d just pass out afterwards,” Gueira said. A triumphant smile crossed Galo’s face, like he knew he was about to make a winning point. The two of them had been locked in debate for almost ten minutes while they played Smash Bros, Gueira kept losing and he was starting to get irritated. 

“Well I could do that and not pass out!” Galo gloated, “It’d take a lot more than two pizzas to take me down!”

“Like three pizzas?” 

“Yeah!” 

Gueira scoffed, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Yeah Galo, I’d also  _ love _ to see you try,” Lio’s smooth voice cut into the conversation. He was currently settled comfortably on Galo’s lap, playing Smash and taking advantage of everyone else being distracted to pull off a win. He’d been the one to start the debate in the first place. 

Galo just got more fired up, “Are we having an eating contest? I love a good challenge!”

“Oh yeah,” Meis caught Lio’s eye before turning to Gueira, a smirk playing at his lips, “Gueira will challenge you, right?”

“Why don’t you challenge him, huh?” Gueira shot back. Meis rolled his eyes.

“Because you have a better chance of winning than me,” he said. 

“I dunno about that…”

“Oh? Are you chickening out?” Meis asked cooly, clearly just trying to egg Gueira on. It worked.

“No!” Gueira protested, turning to Galo, “You an’ me Galo let’s go!”

He knew he couldn’t win a pizza eating contest against Galo, but he wasn’t about to back down and admit defeat, therefore forfeiting bragging rights.

“Wait wait, as much fun as this would be, I’m not buying six pizzas so you two can make yourselves sick,” Lio said. 

Gueira and Galo both groaned. Though truthfully, Gueira felt a little relieved. The last thing he needed was Meis taking care for him after doing something supremely stupid. Again. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d been in that position.

“Yeah what would the Boss and I do if y’all eat all the pizza?” Meis asked, “Other than listen to you two complain about a stomachache.” 

“Uhhh watch us?” Galo offered.

“Galo would  _ you _ want to watch someone else eat pizza and not give you any?” Lio asked. 

Galo pursed his lips, “...no.”

“Case closed, I’m ordering Thai food,” Lio said, already on his phone. That caught Gueira’s attention.

“Oh gimme spicy noodles!” he said.

“And get me spicier noodles than Gueira!” Galo added.

Gueira turned to him and grinned, “Oh so this is a spice war?”

“Two spicy noodles, extra hot.” Lio said flatly, “Galo you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

“The things I do for spicy noodles,” Galo nuzzled the top of Lio’s head, making him let out a mildly annoyed ‘stop it Galo’ before he gave up and let his hair be completely mussed. 

They were too cute, Gueira tried to wrest away the little shred of jealousy that burrowed itself into the back of his mind. Lio of course deserved the happiness and comfort, Galo is perfect for him, and as one of Lio’s closest friends Gueira had nothing but positive feelings toward his relationship. He just wanted something like that for himself, he wanted to know what it was like. He didn’t really feel like he’d done much to earn it though. 

Gueira needed to distract himself.

“Man, it’s really stormin’ out there,” he remarked, looking out the window again. 

“I feel bad for the delivery person,” Galo said. 

“We’ll give them an extra big tip,” Lio said, “I didn’t think it would turn into a storm today.” 

Somewhere in the distance lightning flashed, followed closely by a rolling clap of thunder. 

“Geez,” Gueira said. He actually liked thunderstorms, especially the warm summer storms he remembered from his childhood, when he could sit outside in a t-shirt and watch the rain pour down, when the air was so humid it clung to his skin. It was too cold here, or Gueira still wasn’t used to not being Burnish. He had to bundle up in a sweatshirt and fuzzy socks to keep warm.

Once the food arrived they settled down to eat, all smushed together on the couch. Gueira worked his way through the spicy noodles, though they were almost too spicy even for him. He and Galo commiserated over their terrible choices while Lio and Meis laughed at them. Meis must have taken pity on him though, and he offered Gueira some of his spring rolls. 

Then they went back to playing Smash Bros. 

“Gueira the reason you lose is because you pick  _ Jigglypuff _ .” Lio said. He maneuvered Princess Peach across the screen to slap Sonic off the edge of the map. Galo recovered brilliantly.

“Don’t talk shit about the Ultimate Destroyer,” Gueira fired back. 

Meis aimed one very well placed hit with Piranha Plant that sent Jigglypuff careening off the map and disappearing with a streak of light.

“Player 3.  _ Defeated _ !” the announcer sounded. Gueira sat back. They were playing by special “Galo Thymos House Rules”: all items, one life per round. 

“Man! Fuck you!” 

Meis cackled, “Snooze ya lose!”

“Agh!” Lio just barely saved himself from falling off the edge of the stage, but Galo was ready to make a move and knock him out once and for all.

“Any last words, Fotia?” Galo sounded like a cheesy movie villain. 

“Just that you suck, Thymos-”

Then the TV screen went blank. All the lights in the apartment flickered out. The four of them groaned and swore in unison.

“Ah fuck, just as it was getting good,” Meis said.

“Damn, it’s really bad out there huh,” Galo added. 

Lio flicked his fingers. Nothing. 

“Fuck, I keep forgetting I can’t make fire anymore.” 

“Yeah it sucks.” Meis agreed. 

“What’re we gonna do?” Gueira asked. It’s not nighttime levels of dark, but with the thick storm clouds outside the light filtering in through the window was diffused to almost nothing.

Meis picked up his phone and turned the flashlight on, giving Gueira a look of exasperation. Gueira laughed sheepishly, “ah yes, we have technology.”

Meis snorted, then turned to Lio.

“Y’all got candles?” 

“Yeah here,” Galo got up and the two went to the kitchen. 

Once some candles were lit they all settled back down again. Galo checked the outages around Promopolis and said it might be a few hours. They might as well get comfortable. 

Lio returned to Galo’s lap, the both of them watching something on his phone. He’s the perfect size where his head fits under Galo’s chin, and with a thick fuzzy blanket draped around them they looked so cozy together. 

Gueira felt that familiar ache in his chest again and looked at Meis, who sat in the middle of the couch, wedged between himself and Galo and Lio, not really paying attention to anything except whatever he was typing on his phone. On a cold, stormy day nothing sounded better than cuddling up and watching a movie or something. Gueira wasn’t good at sitting still but if it meant having Meis close he’d try.

He shivered. The room was oddly chilly. 

“Hey,” Meis pulled another blanket off the back of the couch and unfolded it, draping half over himself and holding the other end up. 

“You want in? I think it’s cold.” 

Gueira would do it even if he was too warm, immediately scooting closer so he and Meis were shoulder to shoulder. Meis draped the blanket over both of them, it was another fuzzy one like the one Galo and Lio had currently, with red and white stripes like a candy cane. Only their heads were outside the blanket. 

Without giving it a second thought, Gueira laid his head on Meis’ shoulder. If he wasn’t welcome to, Meis would let him know. Plus he already made the move, can’t back down now.

“Oh, hey Gueira,” Meis said mildly, not looking up from his phone. 

“Hey Meis,” He’d just play this as normal. Nothing to see here, just two bros cuddling under a blanket. 

To his surprise, Meis put his phone down and rested his head on Gueira’s, some of his hair falling in his face and tickling his nose. He could smell the clean scent shampoo Meis uses and just a hint of his cologne, a light almost citrus-y scent that Gueira found both soothingly familiar and enticing.

“Comfy…” Gueira mumbled. Meis didn’t say anything, only letting out a content sigh before the both of them fell silent. 

Gueira didn’t even realize he’d dozed off until he woke up. The lights were back on, making him blink blearily at the brightness. He could hear Lio and Galo taunting each other over whatever game they’d decided to play. Meis was also awake, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. He still had his cheek resting against Gueira’s head. 

“Whuh…” Gueira started to sit up.

“Good morning,” Meis teased, moving his head. There was an immediate lack of warmth where he’d been, Gueira wanted to settle back down again. 

Outside the rain seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed to a drizzle. Of course Gueira had been able to nap through a thunderstorm, but in his defense he’d been very relaxed. 

Gueira sat up and wiped the corner of his mouth, realizing with horror that he’d left a spot of drool on the shoulder of Meis’ hoodie. 

“Oh shit, sorry Meis.” 

“Sorry for-?” Meis looked at his shoulder and chuckled, “Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Gueira hid his face in his hands and groaned. Why did he have to embarrass himself so thoroughly all the damn time?

“I said don’t worry about it, I’m used to it.” Meis nudged his shoulder as if to assure him. It didn’t really help, drooling on your best friend/guy you’re in love with is a bit hard to bounce back from.

“Oh good, Gueira, look at this,” Lio said, leaning over Meis to hold his phone in Gueira’s face. 

On the screen was a photo of him asleep on Meis’ shoulder, well more like the both of them asleep on each other; Gueira had his mouth wide open, and Meis’ face was almost entirely hidden by his hair. It wasn’t particularly flattering for Gueira, but Meis looked beautiful. He couldn’t take an ugly photo if he tried. 

Gueira’s cheeks went pink.

“Boss!” he squeaked, making a grab for Lio’s phone. Lio was too quick, yanking it back against his chest. 

“You two just looked so cozy,” he mused, “I’ll send this to you, or it can go in the Burning Rescue groupchat.” 

“You suck!” Gueira whined. As if the rest of the group needed any more reasons to tease Gueira over his crush. One of these days Meis might actually  _ believe  _ them. 

“I’m kidding,” Lio said, “I’m keeping it though.”

“Why?”

“What? I can’t have pictures of my best friends?” 

“Do you have pictures of me too, Lio?” Galo asked in earnest.

“Of course I do.”

“I don't wanna see  _ those _ ,” Meis said. Lio swatted at him playfully. 

“Wait but I do,” Galo said.

“Later,” Lio said, “these two can’t handle those pics of you from the cat cafe.”

“Right, ‘cat cafe’ if that’s what the kids’re calling it these days.”

“Meis, you’re on thin ice.” 

Meis tossed his head back and laughed, and Gueira felt his heart squeeze. He loved Meis’ laugh, especially this hearty one that radiated nothing but joy, which has been more common as of late. Gueira was completely enamoured.

He’d ask Lio later to send him that picture later. 

  
  


▲▲▲

  
  
  


The door to Ignis’ office was wide open and Gueira took a pause. He, Varys and Galo were about to head to a construction site on the other side of Promopolis, the workers needed to borrow some mechs for some heavy lifting. Equipment was still stretched a bit thin these days, since the city is still under heavy construction. 

On his way to the office, Gueira had heard music coming from the garage and briefly stuck his head in the doorway to see what Meis was up to. The garage was a mess, but empty, the song playing was from one of Meis’ favorite bands, the name escaped him though.

Gueira had resumed his walk to Ignis’ office, humming along until he reached the door. Slowly, he stepped inside, knocking on the doorframe to alert his presence. Ignis looked up from his paperwork. Did he ever take those sunglasses off? 

“Captain?” Gueira asked. He almost said ‘Boss’. 

“Yeah, take a seat,” Ignis gestured to the worn sofa on the other side of the cramped office. His desk was organized, papers in stacks or filed away in folders and paper trays. On the wall above the couch was a cork board with pictures of the crew, the newest addition being a photo of all of them at a barbeque they held to welcome the former Mad Burnish to the team. Lio was caught mid-bite of hamburger when the picture was taken, and Gueira had mustard on his nose. 

Gueira sat down, arms resting on the back of the sofa. 

Ignis folded his hands on his desk. 

“So what’s up?” 

“Well, sir,” Gueira began, “since Remi is outta commission for a few weeks, do ya think it’d be a good idea for me to sub in for him?” 

Yesterday Remi sprained his shoulder while test-operating a mech. It wasn’t his fault, and Lucia and Meis were taking a look at what exactly went wrong, but Remi was grounded for the time being. He wasn’t taking it well, but what Ignis said goes. 

Ignis raised an eyebrow, appraising Gueira from behind his glasses. 

“I don’t think I can allow that, considering the results of your physical,” he said. 

Gueira’s heart sank into his stomach. When people brought up the results of a physical, in Gueira’s experience, it led to bad news.

“Hey I got my weight back up, can’t see my ribs anymore,” he chuckled, hoping Ignis would laugh along. He didn’t. 

“We’ve gone over this, it would be dangerous to let you operate any of the rescue mechs or equipment that would put strain on your body. Doctor's orders.” Ignis said sternly, “It’s not a problem, there’s plenty of other things you can do.”

Gueira’s fear was confirmed. When he joined Burning Rescue he thought his health might be an issue so he tried to hide it, but in order to fully operate as a member of the team he needed updated medical records, especially after living off the grid for so long. His first tests had been “inconclusive” and he had to get additional tests done— a bad sign. Meis and Lio had been cleared fairly quickly, their only true concerns at the time were malnutrition.

Gueira folded his hands in his lap, shrinking back. The frustration bubbling in his throat threatened to spill as he spoke.

“So when a fire breaks out I  _ still _ gotta hang back here’n watch everyone else work?” 

“You have work. It’s just not front line work,” Ignis said, “There’s not as many fires anymore, you know. But driving the truck is pretty important, and you’re good at it. You got your license and you’re a good driver.”

“But what about in an emergency? Who’s covering Remi?” 

Every fire is an emergency, but Ignis had to have a backup plan for times like this. Galo, Lio and Varys could probably handle themselves without Remi, but firefighting is dangerous, traumatizing at times even, and everyone had to be able to pull their weight and help each other. If Gueira couldn’t do that… 

“Meis and Lucia are cleared if they need to be,” Ignis said, “if we need to use Lucia, you man the controls.” 

Of course Ignis would plan for any possible scenario, that’s just one thing that made him a good captain.

“What if everyone is outta commission?” 

“Gueira you know that’s very unlikely.” 

Gueira’s shoulders sagged. 

“No exceptions?”

“No.” Ignis said, “I can’t have you getting hurt needlessly.” 

Gueira clenched his fists. Useless. 

“It’s not fair,” he said, voice shaking, “I’ve been working out, and taking my meds. I’m eating better too! What- what am I supposed to do?” 

Ignis leaned forward and put a hand on Gueira’s shoulder, the assurance on his face nothing less than fatherly. Gueira knew he cared, and that only made it hurt more.

“I’m sorry Gueira, I know it’s frustrating,” Ignis said, “I’m no doctor but I think you’ve been doing well for yourself. That’s all you can do.”

Gueira shrugged Ignis’ hand away. 

“It’s not fair!” He stood up, knuckles going white and nails biting into his palms, “I know I can do it! I-I know I can-!”

“It shows a lot of drive that you even want to cover for him, and it makes me as your boss proud,” Ignis said, “but I can’t allow it. Not in good conscience.” 

Gueira wished the floor would open up and swallow him, that way he wouldn’t have to face anyone on Burning Rescue and tell them he was medically unfit to fight fires. He’d only been good for starting them, apparently.

“Can I go?” he asked, hating how timid he sounded. 

Ignis stood up, meeting him at eye level. His expression was kind, the corners of his eyes crinkled in a genuine concern that in any other circumstance would have made Gueira’s anger melt. At that moment though, he hated Ignis.

“You’re dismissed. But if you want to talk I’m always here,” Ignis said, “You’re doing a good job, don’t lose sight of that.” 

“Yeah thanks,” Gueira shoved his hands in his pockets and stomped down the hall, head swimming. He slammed open the door to the bathroom. It was empty, thank goodness. 

When Gueira was Burnish he’d had one thing he’d always wanted: strength. He could make armor that gave him all the power he wanted, he healed faster than a normal human, he was top ranking in one of the most feared groups in the country. Nobody could tell him again that he was too weak.

And now here he was, hot tears staining his cheeks and arms quivering as he held onto the cold porcelain sides of the bathroom sink, the familiar bitter taste of weakness on his tongue. 

Seventeen year old Gueira wanted to be a professional football player, once upon a time, but the coach of his high school’s varsity team said he couldn’t, his doctor said he couldn’t, his parents said he couldn’t. And now he was sitting here in a sickening deja vu. Once again, he couldn’t  _ do  _ anything. 

Crying at work was maybe the most pathetic thing he could be doing. Gueira let out an aggravated shout, staring at his own wild reflection in the bathroom mirror. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose with the scratchy paper towels from the dispenser on the wall.

“Hey, Gueira?” 

Gueira spun around to the door, wiping his nose on his sleeve. A demand to leave died at the back of his tongue.

Meis stood in the doorway. His expression made Gueira’s throat close, more tears threatening to spill over. He blinked, brushing a stray hair off his shoulder and eyeing Gueira with careful softness.

“Meis.” 

“You’ve been crying,” Meis observed, stepping inside and letting the door swing closed behind him, “what’s going on?”

His tone was soft, assuring. Gueira wanted to melt against him, be held and told he wasn’t a complete useless crybaby, if Meis’ said it he’d maybe believe it. 

“It’s fuckin’ stupid,” Gueira sniffled. 

“If it’s got you this upset it’s probably not,” Meis said. He’s a lot closer now, leaning on the sink next to Gueira. His uniform jacket was covered in soot and engine grease.

“No it’s stupid, I swear.” 

“Come on, I bet it ain’t stupid at all.” Meis said. Gueira sighed.

“Ignis said I’m still grounded from usin’ the mechs, even though Remi’s injured,” he said, “and it’s my stupid fucking ‘medical condition’.” 

He said that last part with as much mocking and vitriol as he could. 

“You asked to sub in?” Meis asked. 

“Yeah,” Gueira said, “I wanted to help, y’know? What if there’s a fire?” 

“Galo and Varys can handle it. Boss too, he’s trained,” Meis said, “and I’m Remi’s backup. We’re covered, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

_ We don’t need you _ . Gueira clenched his fists. 

“I know I can’t fix my body but diet and exercise s’gotta do something! I mean I drink too much sometimes but I’m eating better! I had a salad for lunch the other day when I really wanted a burger!”

Meis offered him a soft smile.

“I know, you’re doing a good job.” 

“But it doesn’t do anything!” Gueira exclaimed, “I just- I thought Ignis might’ve made an exception y’know?”

“It’s probably for the best that he didn’t.” Meis said. Gueira whipped around to face him.

“You’re on  _ his  _ side?” he asked, incredulous. 

Meis frowned, “Ignis is on  _ your _ side. He’s just listenin’ to the doctors, and tryin’ to keep you safe.” 

“The doctors don’t know jack shit.”

“But Ignis does,” Meis said, “I think it’s a good thing.” 

“How can you say that? My life could’ve been so much better if my body didn’t fucking hate me!” Gueira grit his teeth, “You really think it’s  _ good _ ?”

“Your health is more important than driving a fuckin’ mech!” Meis snarled, his gaze going to stone in his visible eye, “You don’t  _ need _ to operate one! I didn’t even think you cared!”

“It’s not about the fuckin’ mech!” Gueira clutched at his hair in frustration, “Shit! I’ve never been able to do anything I want! I couldn’t play football because my bones would break! I broke a bone playing tag once n’ my parents never let me play it again. I had to sit everything out and go to the doctor all the time and I fuckin’ hate it!”

There’s so much more he could say. He hated hospitals, he hated the numerous casts and x-rays. The decisions made around him while he had to sit and take it, his protests brushed off as soon as they left his mouth.

“I know,” Meis said, “but it’s the hand you were dealt, you can’t really do anything about it.” 

Gueira glared at him. He couldn’t believe Meis didn’t agree with him on this. Surely his own best friend would understand why this made him so damn angry. Unless he thought Gueira was weak after all. 

“Easy for you to say! You could follow your passions if you wanted! I’m stuck again without my Burnish strength! I fucking hate it!” Gueira shouted, “Some of us are dealt a shitty hand!”

Meis expression broke for a split second, stoic understanding replaced with just the briefest flash of hurt. 

“Gueira,” he said. “Listen”

“No, Meis,  _ you _ listen!” Gueira fumed, “I’ve never been given a fucking chance! Maybe I could use a mech just fine but ya see “brittle bones” on a medical record and suddenly I need to be handled with baby gloves!”

“Gueira-“

“And I thought you of all people would know I hate that! But you’re doing it too! Treatin’ me like I could just just die any moment.” Gueira looked away, jaw set, “I  _ thought _ you’d understand.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Meis said, the calm in his voice held on by a thread, “I just want to look out for you.”

“Well, I don’t want to rely on you! I ain’t weak just cuz I ain’t Burnish anymore!” 

They didn’t meet until after they became Burnish, Meis hadn't known Gueira any other way, so to see him go from what he was to what he is now… Gueira hated it. 

“You aren’t weak at all,” Meis said. 

“Then stop treatin’ me like I am!”

It’s the look in Meis’ eye that makes Gueira almost falter. He only caught a glimpse before Meis turned away so that his face was blocked by hair, but it was enough. He was on the verge of tears, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Okay. Fine.” Meis spat, “I’ll back off if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, I do,” Gueira snapped, “I don’t want you lookin’ out for me. I can take care of myself.” 

Meis took a deep breath through his nose. Then he turned toward the door without another word, slamming it behind him.

Gueira stared at the door, a bitter emptiness filling his chest. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, angry that he hadn’t managed to hold his tears back. 

Nobody else entered the bathroom, and Gueira was in there for a long time just trying to collect himself. He was angry at Ignis, Meis, the doctors, everyone. Anyone else who crossed his path today better be ready to deal with the consequences. 

By the time he left the bathroom he went to the gym in the basement of the building, knowing it would be empty. If Ignis wanted to get angry at him for not working, then so be it. 

Gueira just approached one of the weight machines, not even bothering with changing clothes. He’d been stuck on the same weight level forever but maybe it would be better today. Taking his position on the bench, he rubbed his gloved hands together, took a few quick breaths in to collect himself. He gripped the bar and focused. 

Try as he did, Gueira couldn’t even lift it. His arms quivered as he kept trying, willing his muscles to just gather a little more strength, just to prove himself wrong. 

Eventually he had to give up, staring at the ceiling of the gym, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re gonna strain your muscles if you carry on like that.” 

Varys’ friendly face was looking down at him, smiling. He wasn’t wearing his FDPP cap, his locs were pulled back into a ponytail and he had a towel draped over one shoulder. Had he been in the weight room this whole time? Embarrassment rose in Gueira’s throat once again, and he wiped his eyes.

“Are you sayin’ I’m weak?” He asked bitterly. Varys scratched at his goatee, brow knit in confusion. 

“No? I was going to lecture you on misusing gym equipment.”

Gueira shimmied out from under the weights and sat on the edge of the weight bench, having to crane his neck to look up at Varys. 

Varys continued, “I know exercise can help your mood, but you seem really upset. There’s nothin’ wrong with taking a break.”

“I don't need a break, I’m doing fine,” Gueira grumbled.

“Okay,” Varys said. He scratched the back of his neck, contemplating. Then his expression cleared.

“Y’know, I can hold the punching bag if you wanna hit something,” he pointed with his thumb to the punching bag hanging across the room. Gueira almost breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t about to ask what the matter was in the first place. 

“Actually, I might just take you up on that,” he said. He needed to hit something.

“Cool,” Varys crossed the room and positioned himself behind the punching bag, gloved hands out to hold it steady. 

Gueira pulled on some gloves and threw a test punch. The bag didn’t really move, but it felt good. He punched again, and again, letting out his frustrations. Varys patiently held the bag until Gueira tired himself out and sat down on the floor. It hadn’t taken long but he felt a bit better, honestly. 

Varys plopped down next to him and wordlessly offered the towel on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any questions, even if he probably wanted to, and Gueira appreciated that. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them close, staring at his and Varys’ reflections in the full length mirror on the wall.

“Thanks,” Gueira said, “That helped, I think.”

“Hey no problem, I hope you feel better.”

“Me too,” Gueira said, handing back the towel. Varys took it, eyes on some point on the other side of the gym.

“You know. I saw Meis earlier-”

“Don’t.” Gueira cut him off. “Don’t talk about Meis.” 

Varys nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, clearly having pieced something together mentally. “He also seemed off.” 

“Huh.” Gueira tried to ignore the uncomfortable pang in his chest. 

“I’m not gonna pry, don’t worry.” Varys assured him, “but I know you two care about each other, a few bumps will hardly ruin that.”

Gueira felt like he wanted to cry all over again. Varys had no  _ clue _ what was going on, but his words were helpful, somehow. 

“Thanks Varys,” he said. He took a slow breath out through his nose. All other words died in his throat, to urge to spill everything, the urge to be angry, all of it. He just needed to breathe. 

Varys smiled and ruffled Gueira's hair. 

“No problem man,” he grinned, “If you need a gym buddy, me n’ Galo are always available, y’know.” 

Gueira rested his chin on his arms. 

“Okay... sure.” 

“Sweet,” Varys hopped up without having to touch the mat with his hands, “I gotta get back to work now. See ya.”

Gueira offered a small wave at his retreating form, “See ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kept Gueira's medical condition fairly vague, since we know Nothing but essentially I went with a mild genetic bone disorder. People with it can live pretty normally but def can't do contact sports because their bones break easily.   
> I love writing Galo and Lio just being happy... love that fluff. And big shoutout to Varys, he's underrated and I wanted to Appreciate Him.   
> Next chapter: it's Meis' turn for some Issues... sorry Meis
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Meis glanced up from his phone to the door to the breakroom for what felt like the hundredth time that minute. Gueira hadn't arrived at work yet. Usually he was slow to get up, he’d rely on Meis to wake him if he slept through his alarm, but today Meis got ready and went to work by himself without going to check on him. Gueira didn’t need his help, right? 

He felt a little bad about it. Their shift technically started almost an hour ago. 

Remi sat on the couch next to Meis, newspaper on his lap, nodding along to Aina’s rant about the mess left in the kitchen by the night shift. He’d volunteered his help, but with one arm in a sling from his shoulder injury Aina insisted he stay put. 

Meis looked at his phone again, open to the last text Gueira sent him, which was a plea for Meis to open the door to the apartment since he’d locked himself out again. He itched to send something, he’d typed different versions of the same text several times now. 

Varys and Lio walked into the breakroom, followed by Galo and Lucia, all of them carrying the usual coffee order for the whole crew. The spike in the noise level shook Meis from his reverie. 

“Plain black coffee for Remi,” Varys handed him a to-go cup, “and I have double shot americano for Meis.”

Meis accepted the drink, “thanks.”

“Captain! I have your coffee!” Lucia called in the general direction of Ignis’ office. 

“Where’s Gueira? I have his godawful drink here,” Lio held up a s’mores frappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Way too sweet for seven thirty in the morning.

“Meis?” Remi addressed him, an eyebrow raised. Meis took a long sip of coffee, ignoring that it was still too hot. Maybe he could avoid answering if he pretended not to hear it. It wasn’t until he felt multiple pairs of eyes on him that he cracked. 

“Don’t ask me,” he said, tone clipped, “I’m not his keeper.”

“You _live_ together,” Lucia said.

“So?” Meis sounded a little too defensive, admittedly, “It’s not like I tell him what to do.” 

“Did he not come with you to work this morning?” Galo asked. 

“That’s weird,” Aina added. 

“You know Gueira seemed really off yesterday, I hope he’s okay.” Remi remarked. Varys was silent, but he raised his eyebrows when Meis met his stare. 

“Seems odd that you don’t know anything, Meis,” Lio said. 

“We aren’t linked telepathically.” Meis said, “now if y’all don’t drop it I swear-”

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!” 

A very disheveled Gueira stumbled into the breakroom, panting like he’d just sprinted up the stairs. His rumpled jacket and messy hair suggested he’d just rolled out of bed and ran here. 

Meis averted his gaze, pretending to be really interested in the workplace safety flyer pinned to the corkboard on the wall next to him. 

“Where were you?” Aina asked, “shift started already.” 

“Overslept,” Gueira said, “I didn’t hear my alarm.” 

He accepted his sugary not-coffee from Lio and crossed the room, sitting as far away from Meis as possible, leaving his usual spot on the couch next to Meis glaringly empty. Lio and Galo exchanged looks of confusion from their seats on the other side of the room. 

“Oof,” Lucia said, “well if ya need an alarm clock that’ll never fail, call me. I’ve got something I wanna try!”

“Don’t take her up on that.” Remi said, “She says it uses a mild shock but it’s not mild.” 

“Yeah no thanks, I’m fine,” Gueira said, putting his hands up in front of him. He glanced at Meis and their eyes met. They both looked away. 

“Too bad, it’s one hundred percent effective.” Lucia said.

“It’s one hundred percent going to fry someone,” Remi quipped back. 

“You’re no fun.” 

Meis concentrated on his coffee, trying not to think about the dense air of tension running between him and Gueira. It’s like a line of electricity linking them across the room, almost palpable, like one could dip their hands into it. 

Obviously, Gueira knew now that he was getting exactly what he asked for, that Meis wouldn’t be helping him, meddling with him, nothing. Part of it was obstinance; Meis wanted to prove a point and he’d play along with Gueira’s little silent treatment game as long as he wanted to keep it up. Gueira needed space and Meis was prepared to give it to him. 

Doesn’t mean he _enjoyed_ it though.

“Well, it’s been real,” Lucia said, stretching her arms over her head and loudly cracking her back, “Meis, I’m going to the control deck, meet me there in five and tell me if you notice anything weird with the lights in the garage.” 

“Right,” Meis answered after her as she left, Vinny scampering at her heels. He stood up too, coffee half-finished.

“Gueira,” Aina said, making Gueira startle from what was clearly an intense train of thought.

“Whu-?”

“I need some help up at the launchpad,” she said, “C’mon.” 

“Kay,” Gueira shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her out of the breakroom. 

“I’m out too,” Varys said. 

“I’ll go bring the Captain his coffee,” Remi said. 

This left Meis under the scrutinizing gazes of Galo and Lio, which was not the ideal situation. Lio knew Meis and Gueira well enough to catch that something wasn’t right, and Galo just has a highly tuned sixth sense for other peoples’ emotions. Together, they’d try and get Meis to talk about his feelings, and that’s why they were dangerous. 

“Meis what’s-” Galo started. 

“Gotta go check those lights,” Meis said abruptly, “See ya.” 

He slipped out the door without another word. 

He heard Galo’s “bye?” and Lio’s “‘kay see ya,” follow behind him. 

The rest of the day dragged on as if it sought to punish Meis, and no amount of working could cut the fuzziness in his brain, he was too distracted. 

After work he didn’t wait around for Gueira, instead taking Dallas II from its parking spot and speeding off toward the waterfront. He didn’t bother with a jacket, letting the wind sting on his bare arms as he went, hoping to clear his head. The sun setting over the bay bathed everything in a brilliant orange, deceptively warm-looking as the evening air cooled. 

Meis arrived home just as the sun set, a to-go container of noodles in hand. He didn’t feel like cooking, and Gueira could fend for himself. 

He decided to sit out in the living room and watch TV while he ate dinner. Usually he and Gueira would pick something to watch or play video games, so Meis admittedly felt a bit lost. Gueira just hid in his room, the muffled sound of Madden NFL and Tame Impala coming from behind his bedroom door, cut by the occasional swear at something. 

At some point he emerged in only boxers and a hoodie, with the hood up, meeting Meis’ eyes for a moment before shuffling to the kitchen. He grabbed a banana, the whole jar of peanut butter, and a spoon before retreating back to his room without a single word. Meis watched him until the door clicked shut. 

The next two days were the exact same. Ride to work alone, work, grab dinner, ride home alone. Somehow Gueira had gotten more stubborn, if that were possible. Normally by the day and a half mark he’d blow through his anger and start acting normal again. They’d never had a fight that lasted longer, they couldn’t afford to when all they really had was each other and a team to lead. 

▲▲▲

Meis cranked the music in the garage up loud enough to drown out his thoughts. He didn’t pick anything in particular, just a mix of whatever would distract him while he worked on repairing a mech that’d been damaged at a construction site. Lucia blew through the place like a tornado, goggles on, babbling about some kind of arm hinge she wanted to try. Meis just scooped all of his hair up into a ponytail, even the bangs that normally covered his eye, and put his goggles on. He stepped onto the hydraulic lift to maneuver himself up to the shoulder of the mech. 

Getting distracted while on a machine several feet from the floor was something he ought not to do, and normally he was sharp enough to stay on task, but not today.

Meis had known Gueira for years now, and they’d been through more than a lifetime’s worth of struggle together. Shortly after a clash between the Freeze Force and multiple Burnish settlements, they both joined Mad Burnish and rose through the ranks as reluctant teammates, constantly bickering over everything. It took one close call for them to agree on a truce, then two weeks in Freeze Force containment to become inseparable. After their break out, and the complete decimation of the sector 13 freeze force labs, they knew they were in this together.

Their leadership of Mad Burnish had been unmatched, at least until Lio took over. Gueira’s charisma drew people in, when he talked they listened and wanted to follow him, but he was scatterbrained and didn’t think ahead. Meis was tough to read and reserved, but he had the intelligence and strategy to lead a team. Together, they were somewhat organized chaos, and with Lio providing direction they were an unstoppable force of nature.

Since the Promare left so much changed to the point of frustration. Meis had to wonder if he and Gueira were only a good team when it came to survival. Maybe now that their lives were normal, they didn’t need each other anymore. Did they really need to live day by day with the ever looming fear of death in order to need each other? 

No, Gueira didn’t need someone to keep him safe, he needed a best friend. Sure, Meis wanted more than that but that opportunity long since passed, assuming he even had it. The nervous laughter in Gueira’s voice as he said they ought to never kiss again was clear enough in Meis’ head that it could have happened yesterday. And yesterday, the anger in Gueira’s voice as he essentially told Meis to fuck off felt like a distant memory. 

“Hey.”

Meis pulled at a frayed chord with gloved hands, continuing down his spiraling train of thought. 

“Hey.” 

The music was loud and he wasn’t paying much attention to anything else. 

“Hey!” Galo waved his arms over his head, calling up to him, “Meis!” 

“Yeah?” He practically had to shout over the music. He moved the lift back down to ground level and hopped off, taking his goggles off and untucking his bangs from behind his ear so they fell in front of his eye again. When he turned he was met with a rather concerned Galo and a somewhat bored Lio. Galo’s taller, bulkier form made Lio look somehow even more waifish in comparison, and even Meis felt small beside him. The extra height from his mohawk doesn’t help. 

“Whaddya need?” Meis asked, quieter this time once he turned the music down. Galo scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well Gueira told me to tell you-” 

“Tell him that he can come tell me himself if it’s this important,” Meis interrupted him, irritated. Even the mention of Gueira’s name sent an odd twinge through his chest. 

Galo chuckled sheepishly. 

“I think that’s what he was trying to avoid.”

Meis scoffed, “well he can’t just avoid shit, tell him to get his ass down here and I’ll-”

“This is childish.” Lio’s irritated tone was enough to shut him up, “What’s going on with Gueira?”

Galo winced, “he didn’t say…”

Lio didn’t wait for him to elaborate.

“Meis?” 

Meis haughtily crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding both of them by looking at some point across the garage. 

“Y’all can go ask him, since he’ll actually talk to you.” 

“So he’s not talking to you,” Lio concluded. 

“There it is! You two haven’t been talking, it’s _weird_.” Galo said, bulldozing forward as he does, “Something’s up.”

“Clearly it’s a sore spot,” Lio remarked, mostly to Galo. He had his arms crossed, and with his black turtleneck and gloves he gave off his usual air of authority. It helped that he was also very direct. 

“Yeah,” Galo said, “Will trying to talk to him not work?”

“He’s in a mood,” Lio said, “And when he’s like that you have to let him cool off or he’ll get more pissed off.” 

“Ah. I get that. I’m the same way,” Galo said. 

“So that’s what I’m doing,” Meis said. Then he paused and let out a sigh. 

“He normally comes ‘round a little quicker though.” 

Lio and Galo exchanged a look. 

“You want to do something about it,” Lio wasn’t asking a question. Meis shook his head, ponytail swishing back and forth with the movement. 

“Not really,” he said, “as you said Boss, he’s gotta cool down.” 

“You could make a peace offering,” Galo suggested.

“What does that mean?” Lio looked up at him. 

“Like, do something small to show him you care without talking to him?” Galo said, “if he doesn’t want to talk then don’t.”

“Hm,” Meis had to give it to Galo, he had some good ideas most of the time, but he knew that would only make Gueira get more upset. Also, Meis already decided to take the petty route and wait for him to come around on his own, agonizing as it may be. 

“You don’t seem to be into that idea,” Galo said. 

“In most other cases I would be, but Gueira told me to fuck off n’ stop babying him so I’m not gonna do shit,” Meis said flippantly. The goal was to sound as unattached as possible, even though Lio wouldn’t buy it for a minute. 

“Why would he say that to you?” Galo said, concern clearly growing, “I’d maybe understand with anyone else, but with _you_ of all people...”

“I’m sorry Meis.” Lio said kindly, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

For a second that sounded like a good idea. Gueira listened to Lio. But Gueira might also get angry at Meis for putting Lio in the middle of what was ultimately their problem.

“Do what you want, but I don’t want him thinking you’ve sided with me.” 

“I’m not picking a side, I just want to know what’s going on.” 

Meis shrugged, “then do whatever you want, I guess.” 

Lio huffed, standing with most of his weight on one leg and arms crossed, as usual exuding an energy far bigger than himself. 

“I will, and I won’t tell you what that’ll be so Gueira can’t hold it against you, sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Meis mulled it over. As much as his curiosity would tell him to pry, Lio’s idea was the best route to take. 

Galo clapped a hand on Meis’ shoulder, his expression open and kind.

“Whatever it is, I know you guys can work it out. I mean, you’re best friends, you love each other!”

Meis went red. He didn't know whether Galo meant platonically or not, and he was not about to ask.

“Can you two leave now? I’m busy.”

“Yeah yeah, we’re leaving,” Lio waved him off, “I’ll tell Gueira that you send your love.”

“You will not.” 

Lio and Galo giggled conspiratorily, and Meis wasn’t having any of it, putting a gloved hand on both of their backs and shoving them toward the door. Honestly the two of them could almost be as chaotic as Meis was with Gueira, they were just more subtle about it. 

At the door Lio turned around, giving Meis that look of his, the one where his violet eyes soften and a genuine, kind smile pulled at his lips. 

“It’ll be fine, he’ll come around,” he assured him softly. Meis chanced a small smile. He was really, truly thankful to have the kind of friend he has in Lio.

“Thanks Boss.” 

▲▲▲

Barely anyone used the second garage in the Burning Rescue building, it was more or less extra storage for spare parts and old equipment and therefore usually passed by without a thought. The only person who frequented it was Lucia, and now Meis, since it was the perfect place to practice the guitar. He couldn’t play in the apartment, noise complaints would roll in the second he plugged in an amp, but here nobody would care. 

Surrounded by dusty cardboard boxes ahe shelves of junk, the place had that perfect grungy garage band practice aesthetic he’d always kind of wanted. It reminded him of being in highschool and going out into his family’s garage to practice for orchestra class, but playing the cello in a well-organized garage hadn’t been what he was going for.

Even though it was his day off he woke up early to get here, just barely throwing on ripped black jeans and a t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of before bolting out the door. Anything was better than stewing in the suffocating tension of the apartment. 

Meis missed talking to Gueira, and time spent with him was more time he had to break down and try to talk some sense into him.

Meis plugged his bass guitar in and strummed a chord, the feedback from the amp reverberating around the garage. It’s a delicious sound, one that reminded Meis of how much he loved being able to play.

“Whenever you’re ready!” Lucia clacked her drumsticks together and grinned from her place at a drum set beside him. Imagine Meis’ surprise when he learned she played drums, she took them up because she was stuck on an invention and needed to let out frustration in a productive way, and ended up really loving it. They agreed to join up for an impromptu ‘jam sesh’, as Lucia called it, every so often to ‘play music and not give a fuck’ as Meis would put it. It was easily one of his favorite pastimes. 

“Okay,” Meis said, “how does Rush sound?” 

“Good, but don’t drag,” Lucia drawled. Meis rolled his eyes fondly. 

He adjusted the amp and played another chord, listening for that droning sustain that he wanted. When he finally got it, he gave Lucia a thumbs up.

“‘Kay, let’s go.” 

“You got it!” Lucia hit a rimshot on the snare drum and Meis kicked off the song playing a few bars before she joined in. 

This particular song they were practicing was one Meis had written himself, lyrics and all. Other than Lucia, he’s the only one who knew about it and he wasn’t sure he was ready to make that change anytime soon, no matter how many times the others would ask him to play something.

Truthfully, he was never that confident with his voice. In his old band he was backup vocals, and though he was told he had a good voice, it seemed like the lead singer always took some issue with how he sounded. The songs he wrote weren’t accepted either, his bandmates would push them aside and while Meis knew some of them were embarrassing, at least in retrospect, they weren’t bad. In fact, after awakening as Burnish and leaving the band, they performed one of Meis’ songs and it was a hit. When he heard the song and recognized it as his own, he’d been so angry he set the radio on fire. 

Today Meis found himself completely caught up in the music, pouring however much pent-up frustration and lovesickness he refused to talk about into his singing. It’s a raw sort of sound, his own voice with his own words, written to express a feeling he couldn’t otherwise describe. 

The final chord of the song rang out through the garage. Meis pushed some hair out of his face and grinned out at the empty garage as if he were on stage, heart pounding in his chest. 

“That was awesome!” Lucia exclaimed. Vinny squeaked in agreement from his perch on her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. It’s probably the best they’ve ever played that song. It’d felt so good to just sing and let his mind go blank for a few minutes, where he could just get caught up in it. 

Then Meis heard clapping from somewhere on the other side of the garage, almost behind him, and he whirled around to see Galo, Aina, Varys and Gueira, all crowded at the doorway to the garage. 

He should have kept the door in his field of vision. 

“That was so good!” Aina exclaimed. She and Galo practically tumbled through the doorway, both in workout gear, towels around their shoulders and gloves on. Varys was next, with Gueira sulking in his shadow, his track jacket zipped up to his chin. 

“Hey guys!” Lucia waved a drumstick and grinned, “Y’all enjoying the show?” 

Meis had turned back around to hide his embarrassment. 

“Were you there the whole time?” he asked. 

“Not the whole time,” Varys assured him, “We just caught the end of it, sounded really good though.”

“Yeah Meis your voice is amazing!” Galo exclaimed, “it’s so moody, but in a good way I swear!” 

“I’m still rusty,” Meis said dismissively. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Varys said, “You sound great.” 

“See Meis? I told you,” Lucia said smugly, “You still got it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Meis was grinning anyway. A little embarrassment wasn’t enough to stop him from preening from a little praise. 

Gueira didn’t say anything, his expression was unreadable. 

“Anyway, sorry if we interrupted your vibes or whatever,” Aina said, “We weren’t trying to intrude, we were just on our way from the gym and heard you so we thought we’d come check it out.” 

“Glad y’all enjoyed it. Just let me know next time so I can play a better song.” 

“Um yeah? You’re so playing for us some time,” Galo said, “You’ve got some serious burning passion!”

Aina smacked his bicep, “Okay Galo that’s enough.”

Meis flipped his hair over his shoulder, “No, praise me more, I love it.” 

Even Gueira let out a chuckle. 

“Well we’re getting out of your hair anyway,” Aina said, “I gotta shower. Lucia are we still on for lunch?”

“Yeah! Bottomless mimosas don’t drink themselves!” 

“Keep up the good work guys,” Varys said holding up a fist for Meis to fistbump.

“Thanks Varys.”

“See ya Meis, see ya Lucia!” Galo called.

“Byeee!” Lucia called after them.

Varys, Galo and Aina filed out of the garage. Gueira, however, lingered behind, neck craned to look at the ceiling and hands shoved in his pockets. With his profile to Meis, it was apparent how much he slouched when he stood. Meis’ eyes followed the lines of his face, strong nose, a softer jawline with a little bit of stubble, the way his hair curls like ivy to frame his cheeks. 

He didn’t acknowledge Meis, like he was waiting for him to say something first and get his attention. Meis wouldn’t give him that luxury. 

“I’m gonna run upstairs,” Lucia said, winking at Meis as she scampered past, “Brb.” 

Once she was out the door, another awkward silence filled the air. Meis crossed his arms. He could wait all day. Gueira would have to speak first. 

He supposed Gueira wanted an apology, but he didn’t plan to apologize for wanting him to be safe. He cared too much to pretend he felt otherwise.

“You sounded really good,” Gueira said, voice almost too loud in the silence.

“Thanks,” was Meis’ clipped response, mindlessly adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder.

“What was that song? I didn’t recognize it.” 

“I wrote it myself,” Meis said. He couldn’t tell Gueira about it, even the title would give it away. 

“That’s really cool,” Gueira sounded restrained. He still wouldn’t look Meis in the eye.

Meis shrugged, “It’s a hobby.” 

The two of them stood apart, barely facing the other, in the garage surrounded by old mech parts and tools, bits of dust floating in the sunlight filtering in through the line of windows near the ceiling. It’s tense, Meis fidgeted with one of the bracelets on his wrist. 

“You know it could be more than that,” Gueira mumbled.

“Not really.”

At this Gueira finally faced him. 

“Yes really! You’re not some washed up hasbeen. You could have a whole career, you had one before.” 

“It was hardly a career,” Meis had to hold back a snort in his derision. Gueira’s expression only darkened.

“How come you won’t tell me the name of your old band?” He said lowly, “I wanna hear more of your music.”

“My old band doesn't matter,” Meis said, “And neither does my old music.”

“Yes it does! It’s something you did and it’s like a whole ‘nother life I don’t know anything about.” 

Meis didn’t say anything. The details of that life were buried deep, he didn’t want to share them and dig up those memories.

“Have you ever wanted to reform the old band?”

“Absolutely not.” Meis snapped. Maybe one person in the band would want him back, and he’s the reason Meis would never, ever want to go back.

“But you looked so happy playing just now, you love music-”

“Drop it.” 

“But-!”

“Gueira.”

Gueira let out a frustrated huff, but fell silent. He paced a few slow steps, shoulders hunched up and hands in his pockets. 

“You two decent? I’m coming in!” Lucia announced, sticking her head through the doorway, a mischievous, toothy grin on her face.

“There’s nothin’ goin’ on Lucia, come on,” Meis said, exasperated. Lucia giggled anyway, elbowing Gueira as she bounced past him and plopped down in her chair behind the drums again. 

Another pause followed. 

“I should go,” Gueira pointed to the door with his thumb, “Varys said he’d make some post-workout protein shake for me.” 

“Have fun with that.” 

“Thanks, have a good... rehearsal I guess.” 

“Yeah thanks.”

And with that Gueira slunk out the door without a glance back. Lucia looked at Meis, then the door, then back to Meis, an amused half-smile on her face.

“Dude you two were talking like awkward middle schoolers.” 

“Ugh shut up.” Meis groaned.

“Hey hey, I get that shit’s going on,” Lucia said, “And I’m not gonna get involved.” 

“Thanks.” 

Lucia minded her own business, and though some might say she actually didn’t care, Meis knew her to be in on all the gossip she could sink her teeth into. She just had the sense to not pry directly, and he could respect that.

“You cool to keep playing?” Lucia asked, “I got a few more songs in me.”

“Yeah.” 

They ended up working on a few more songs before Lucia had to go to her lunch ‘not a date I _swear_ ’ with Aina. Though considering she’d dressed nicer than usual today, nice in this case meaning a denim skirt and a t-shirt, it was probably a date.

Once she and Vinny left, Meis took out an old acoustic guitar to play by himself for a bit. It was actually Ignis’ old guitar but he’d let Meis ‘borrow it indefinitely’, which apparently wasn’t the same thing as just giving it to him. 

He plucked an experimental few notes. It still played beautifully, Meis wasn’t sure he’d ever want to replace it. Running his fingertips over the glossy wooden face of the guitar, he thought of what song he could play. He knew some older country songs, slow, solemn ones that matched his mood. 

Gueira’s praise for his playing earlier gave him a little spark of inspiration, just enough to light the cave of self-loathing he’d hidden himself in. Meis would be damned if he wasn’t elated to hear the person he loved more than anyone else in the world complimenting his music. Not even the angriest, most stoic person alive would be immune to that.

He strummed a few chords, trying to catch a sound he liked and when he did he took it and ran with it, playing though what could pass as a melody. All it needed were words, the hardest part, but Meis decided to make those up as he went along too, thinking that maybe there’d come a day that he’d sing this, and Gueira would know it was about him. 

▲▲▲

In the few days that passed, Meis still rode to and from Burning Rescue by himself. Gueira would talk to him here and there, but only if he had to and never for long before making an excuse to leave and scampering away. It stung, of course, and Meis had half a mind to just corner Gueira and talk to him, but at this point he was in too deep waiting for him to come around. 

To make matters worse, the rest of the crew kept sending Gueira into the garage to “drop things off” or to ask Meis and Lucia what they wanted for lunch. Sometimes Meis would find himself in the breakroom with everyone one moment, then alone with Gueira the next, until one of them decided to get up and leave. The meddling would have annoyed him if he didn’t have a shred of hope that maybe it would work. 

It was a particularly cold morning when Meis was nominated for coffee duty, which he suspected nothing about until he asked around the room for help carrying everything. That’s when he learned that his coworkers really were traitors. 

“Oop, sorry can’t,” Lucia said from her post at the control panel, “Gotta fire up the mechs.”

“No fires!” Galo hollered from the other room, making everyone laugh.

“Captain asked for my help,” Aina said, “And he asked for your help too, Galo.”

“Right!”

“I’m injured,” said Remi. 

“I’m looking at Remi’s injury,” Varys added, even though he was on the other side of the room. 

“Boss?” Meis turned to Lio, who reclined on the sofa like he owned the place, wearing Galo’s jacket.

“It’s cold outside and I don’t wanna,” Lio said, “I volunteer Gueira.”

“Gueira’s not even here.” Meis pointed out. He hadn’t seen him all morning.

“He’s in the bathroom.” 

“Fine, I’ll wait for him.” 

Lucia put her feet against the nearest wall and pushed, making her slide in her wheeled chair across the room and out the door.

“Thank you, Meis~” she sang as she disappeared. Gueira stumbled inside a moment later, doing a confused double-take over his shoulder.

“She’s about to ride the wheely chair down the stairs-” 

“Yeah we know,” Meis said flatly, “and by the way you’ve been volunteered for coffee duty.”. He’d mess up everyone’s orders for this scheme.

“With you?”

Meis rolled his eyes, “well fuck Guiera don’t sound too happy.”

“I'm not happy, it’s freezing out there!” 

“Let’s just go.”

After a cold, quiet walk to the coffeeshop, the warmth inside was welcomed. Not having the Promare anymore was still something to get used to, even with his jacket zipped up and gloves on, Meis was freezing. 

Most of the staff at this coffeeshop knew the Burning Rescue crew, and it wasn’t a busy morning, so Meis and Gueira made small talk with the barista. She shyly asked about Varys, and Gueira told her he’d be there next time. 

Meis and Gueira waited by the counter for their order, both looking at their phones in relative quiet. 

“Meis?”

A hand on Meis’ shoulder made him flinch and whip around, his panicked thought that someone had recognized him as an ex-Burnish. 

He was met with the one thing that might be worse: a familiar man just a bit taller than him and far more built, sharp jawline and bleached hair shaved on the sides of his head. If it weren’t for sea-green eyes and a black metal nose ring, Meis maybe wouldn’t have recognized him.

“Well I’ll be. It is you! Hey Meis!”

Meis’ heart nearly stopped. Out of every ghost from his past to crawl out of the woodwork, it had to be the one he wanted to see the least. 

“Tate,” Meis replied coolly, “It’s been a while.” 

There’s many ways Meis imagined the scenario of meeting Tate West again, and none of them took place in a coffee shop and certainly none of them involved Meis being in his work uniform with yesterday’s eyeliner smudged under his eyes. 

Tate let out a chuckle. He was in ripped acid wash skinny jeans and a dark jacket worn over an old, oversized flannel. It’s practically his uniform, Meis knew many iterations of this outfit on him.

“To be honest I didn’t think you'd still be around,” Tate ruffled the hair on the back of his head, “after what happened n’ all I thought Freeze Force might’ve got you.”

“What a nice thought, thanks.” Meis’ voice dripped with venom. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, come on have some faith in me,” Tate said with a laugh. His voice always had a nasally, haughty quality to it, like he was always in on a joke at someone else’s expense. Younger Meis thought that it was hot once.

“Sure,” Meis quipped, intending to let the conversation drop there. Gueira just looked starstruck, eyes wide and fixed on Tate. 

Much to Meis’ dismay, Tate edged closer, moving back into his line of vision. 

“I gotta gig here tomorrow night,” he said casually, “I was kinda shocked cuz I heard most of the places ‘round here were destroyed, but I guess there was a venue big enough outside the disaster zone. Are you going? Should be pretty sweet.” 

That’s when Gueira finally picked his jaw up off the floor.

“Holy shit, you _are_ the lead singer of Modernest,” he bounced up and down where he stood, “I knew you were coming to Promopolis but- oh my god your music is amazing!”

The sinking in Meis’ stomach is nothing compared to the white hot clench of hurt in his chest. 

Tate laughed again, “Didn’t realize I was so famous.” 

Meis rolled his eyes. He’d absolutely realized he was that famous, hell he’d _thought_ he was that famous before he actually was.

“I can get you tickets if you don’t have ‘em. Backstage VIP even.” Tate said. 

“Um, yes?” Gueira cut in, even more excited now, “That would be incredible!” 

Meis wanted to throw up. Gueira’s excitement was like that of a puppy offered a treat, scarlet eyes wide and shining with eagerness. 

“Well I can arrange that,” Tate pulled out his phone, “Just gimme your name for the list, then at the concert tell the bouncer at the VIP line he’ll let’cha right in.” 

Gueira did so, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. When he finished, Tate pocketed his phone and once again turned to Meis, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

“I put you on the list too, Meis, in case you wanna come,” he said smoothly, “We really do need to catch up.”

Meis just met him with a look of practiced nonchalance, a slew of emotions bubbling under a blank mask, it was a strength of his. If he could wring Tate’s neck and not get arrested he wouldn’t hesitate. 

“Come on,” Tate tried to elbow him but Meis stepped away, “For me?”

“Yeah, so about that,” Gueira raised his hand like he wanted to be called on in class, “How do you know him?”

_Oh no._

“He’s the original bass guitarist for Modernest,” Tate said matter-of-factly. Then he caught Meis’ eye with a pert smile.

“And we might’ve been an item for a bit.”

Meis chewed his lip, his whole mouth felt dry. Might’ve? For a bit? They dated for well over a year, and though it pained him to admit it, Meis had _loved_ him. 

“What?” Gueira’s mouth was agape again, “You _dated_? 

“Sure did. I miss those days, don’t you?” Tate addressed Meis again, sending that sickening jolt through his chest again. 

“Not at all.” 

“Aww not even a little?”

“Nope.” 

“But you know it was real,” Tate said, as if that were obvious. Meis would beg to differ, except he’d never let Tate see him beg.

“So what’re you even up to these days, Bluebell? Other than fighting fire, judging from your getup. You still play?” Tate asked.

“Don’t call me that. And it’s none of your business,” Meis snarled. 

“Why so harsh? We’re cool aren’t we?” 

“We ain’t anywhere near cool.” 

Tate’s expression fell. He ran his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh, closing his eyes as if to try and center himself.

“You know, I’ve been working on myself,” his voice went soft, almost pitiful, “You’re such a great guy Meis, and I just feel so bad about how things ended.”

“I doubt that. You said you made the right choice,” Meis said bitterly. 

“Look, I’m trying to be a better person,” the patience in Tate’s voice was eroding quickly, “I know I hurt you, but I can make it right if you’d just-“

“That's enough,” Gueira’s voice was low enough to be a growl, his eyes narrowed and locked on Tate. 

“He your new squeeze?” Tate asked, jerking his head in Gueira’s direction.

Meis opened his mouth to say no but Gueira answered first. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” he declared boldly, jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb, “Meis is my boyfriend! We’re dating.”

Meis couldn’t deny how hearing that made his heart race. His face was burning red. 

“Oh. Really?” Tate frowned, “Meis you said you’d wait…” 

“I- I _never_ said that.” 

“Yeah, no he ain’t waiting,” Gueira said, “since he’s with me now, his boyfriend.” 

“Yeah you made that very clear, uhh… Greg, was it?” 

Gueira opened his mouth with the clear intent to retort, but the barista set two drink holders on the counter. 

“Burning Rescue, your order is ready!” She called. 

Perfect timing. Meis didn’t think he could stand in this coffee shop a second longer without an all-out brawl. Several people around them were already staring.

“That’s us,” Meis said quickly, grabbing both drink holders and shoving one into Gueira’s hands.

“Yup. We’re on the clock, so we gotta bounce,” Gueira said, “Hasta la vista, Tate.” 

Tate shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Meis, resignation clear on his face. 

“Well, hope to see ya ‘round at my concert or something,” he said, “You always have a place backstage with me, if you wanna talk.” 

“He won’t be takin’ that offer,” Gueira said before he practically shoved Meis through the door of the coffeeshop, back out into the cold. 

Meis glanced back at the door, then at Gueira’s stony expression. His heart thudded in his ears, almost drowning out the sounds of the city. 

As soon as they turned the street corner, Gueira let out a breath like he’d been holding it underwater. 

“Holy shit, what a fuckin’ asshole,” he said, “You dated that scumbag?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Meis’ voice shook dangerously. The feeling that tears may spill over at any moment rose in his throat, making his voice almost a croak. 

“But you weren’t just in a _band_ you were in a popular band, n’ you dated the lead singer-”

“And I _said_ shut up about it.” 

“But-”

“Say one more word, I fucking dare you.” Meis bit out, “Fuck Gueira, why don’t you _listen_ to me?!” 

Everything from before his life as Burnish had bubbled right to the surface, all that hurt he’d tried to bury deep out in the desert and leave there to rot. 

“Geez fine! Whatever!” 

Gueira stomped down the sidewalk a few paces ahead of him, seething, dangerously close to dropping the coffees in his hands. Meis kept his distance a few paces behind him.

They turned the corner to arrive at the Fire Department, the silence between them sustained even as they climbed up the stairs and met everyone in the breakroom. 

“How was the-?”

Meis didn’t stick around to answer, setting all the drinks down on the table with a little too much force and snatching his own before storming out of the room without a word. He couldn’t talk around the lump in his throat without choking up, and he had no intention of letting anyone know that. 

He heard Aina ask Gueira what was going on before striding quickly out of earshot, hot tears pricking at his eyes.

A ladder on the top floor of the building led up to the launchpad on the roof, metal rungs worn with use. He climbed it, opening the hatch door over his head, letting in a rush of cold air that blew his hair everywhere. Hopping out onto the tarmac where the rescue plane sat idle, he drew his jacket closer and zipped it up to his chin. 

At the edge of the roof he sat with his back to the plexiglass wall separating himself and the street several stories down. He folded his knees up close and rested his forehead on them, his hair falling around his shoulders in a thick, dark sheet. As far as Meis was concerned, if Lucia needed his help badly enough she’d find him. 

He drew in a shaky breath and sniffled. Meis thanked his resolve for holding out and not crying in front of anyone, most of all Tate, who would have loved to see it, he’s sure. Biting cold wind cut right through his jacket but he didn’t care, in fact it might as well be that way. His coffee grew cold beside him

The creaking metallic sound of the hatch door opening made him jolt up. It swung back, and Gueira stuck his head out, scanning the launchpad for a second. Meis didn’t acknowledge him outwardly. Lack of energy, or maybe he actually wanted Gueira there.

Wordlessly, Gueira walked over and sat down next to him, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Meis wiped his eyes, leaving a black smudge on the back of his hand.

The silence between them stretched on for what felt like hours. Cold wind rustled their jackets, Meis’ sniffling broke the muffled sounds of traffic far below them. He’d only cried in front of Gueira twice, once after they broke out of Freeze Force containment, and once after they found Lio alive among the wreckage of the Parnassus when they’d been so sure he didn’t survive. Gueira had cried then too. 

This felt trivial in comparison. Except maybe trivial things can matter too, they do to Gueira and that was something Meis admired about him.

“One night after I was finally done with midterms, I walked into Tate’s apartment, found him fucking one of the guys who did all the bands’ merch design. I was so fucking tired I wasn’t even mad right away.” 

The words tumbled out before Meis’ brain had any time to hold them back. Gueira rested his cheek on his folded arms, looking at Meis with wide eyes, an implicit encouragement for Meis to keep talking. 

“There was a bottle of wine on the coffee table, they’d made dinner,” he continued, “Tate never did any of that shit when he was with me. Even gave him one of my shirts to wear. That hurt more, I think.” 

“I fucking hate him,” Gueira mumbled. 

“Tate acted like he knew fucking everything, he’d tell me all the shit that was wrong with my playing or my singing and pick apart all the songs I wrote. None of it was ever good enough but I kept trying. Wasn’t ‘till later I realized that’s what he wanted, he wanted to knock me down so then when he picked me up and told me how great I was I’d see him as some hero,” Meis said, an undercurrent of bitterness running through his voice.

“And he’d always wanna fuck after making some backhanded comment. And I’d always let him. He was older, and I really liked him and I wanted his approval, for some reason.” 

Meis chewed lip and sighed. It was so obvious how ugly it’d been.

“He wanted you to beg,” Gueira said. 

“And I did,” Meis said, “I feel stupid for lettin’ go so far.”

“He’s the stupid one,” Gueira said, “And the knows he’ll never do better.” 

“Hm.” 

Another silence, Gueira clearly mulled the story over in his head, judging from the way his brow furrowed.

“I think you should make your own band,” Gueira said after a stretch of silence, “Make a good experience that doesn't involve a shit relationship.”

“I dunno,” Meis mumbled.

“You an’ Lucia are already kind of a band. If you wanted to perform you could. Don’t listen to Tate’s voice in your head tellin’ you shit, cuz that’s who’s talkin’ when you say you aren’t any good.” 

Tate did erode Meis’ self confidence, something he hadn’t noticed until the damage had already been done. Meis loved to perform, he loved playing music and being flashy. Tate had wanted him as an accessory. 

“He did fuck my mind up pretty good,” a humorless chuckle escaped Meis. 

“And I shoulda kicked his ass when I had the chance.”

Gueira’s loyalty never failed to amaze him. Even while angry at Meis he’d put all that aside to stand up for him and be there when he needed him, even if Meis acted as if he didn’t want him. It was one of Gueira’s best qualities. 

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” Meis said. 

“I couldn’t just let him act like that,” Gueira ran a hand through his hair, “It’s weird though tellin’ off a celebrity. I guess that’s why they say you should never meet your idols. Not that I idolized the guy. I just liked the music.” 

“Don’t let me stop you if you wanna go to the concert,” Meis said. 

“I don’t wanna go to his stupid concert,” Gueira said, “I couldn’t stand in a crowd and cheer for some prick who broke my best friend's heart.”

Meis’ cheeks went pink and he coughed, hoping to kickstart his breathing again. He chanced a glance at Gueira, catching a little bit of a sheepish smile before he turned away. They hadn’t been sitting far apart to begin with, so Meis could lean over and nudge him with his shoulder. A simple gesture, one that Meis himself isn’t sure of the meaning to. Maybe gratitude. 

“We should probably get back to work,” Meis said.

“Yeah, probably.” 

Meis stood up, and Gueira followed suit. In the brief pause that followed, Gueira stepped closer, arms spread.

“Ya need a hug, Cowboy?” 

Meis nodded. 

Gueira moved forward to wrap his arms around Meis’ shoulders and pulled him close. Meis’ arms hung awkwardly by his sides for a moment before he returned the hug, gripping at the thin material of Gueira’s uniform windbreaker. He buried his face into his shoulder and squeezed tighter, having to hold back the tears and the lump in his throat that threatened to rise again as the tension of the past week finally began to unwind. The only feeling that seemed real was Gueira’s warm palm pressed between his shoulder blades, Meis felt as if enough of that warmth radiated from there to protect him against the cold. 

They pulled away from each other slowly, Meis let his hands linger on Gueira’s upper arms before letting go. They were _really_ close to one another, and Gueira was giving him this lopsided smile that made Meis melt a little.

If he were to just lean in a little closer... Meis’ heart thundered in his chest. All he wanted to do was close the distance between them. 

“Meis?” 

He blinked. 

“Huh?”

The cloudiness in Gueira’s expression cleared. 

“You were givin’ me this funny look, you sure you’re okay?” 

Meis let out a breath, his heartbeat still overwhelmingly loud enough to where he’d swear Gueira could hear it. 

“I’m fine,” he said stiffly. 

Gueira coughed. 

“So, uh,” Gueira tilted his head, his smile turning bashful, “I figured since you had kind of a shitty day… you’d wanna go grab tacos after work?” 

“What’s the catch?” Meis asked. 

“Can a man not go get tacos with his bro?”

Meis crossed his arms. 

“Not if he’s mad at his bro.”

“Bro I’m not mad at you bro. Are you mad at me?” Gueira paused to elbow him in the ribs, “Bro?”

“No,” Meis laughed and shoved him back, “Bro.”

“Bro…” Gueira dissolved into giggles, and Meis couldn’t resist joining him. This felt better. What heaviness had settled in Meis’ chest lifted a little hearing Gueira laugh like that. 

“I was thinkin’ that one place, the one with the good horchata,” Gueira said, “What do you think?”

“Fine by me,” Meis said.

“Cool…” 

“See you… after work then?” Meis opened the hatch door leading back into the building.

“Yeah, see ya after work,” Gueira said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Meis gave him one last smile, then he slipped back down the ladder and into the hallway.

He paused and looked up to make sure Gueira wasn’t following him. The hatch door was open, showing just a rectangle of cloudy grey sky. 

Meis leaned against the ladder for a moment, cool hands pressed to his burning face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Former marching band kid attempts to write rock music... haha. Inspiration for Meis and Lucia's band comes from the band Royal Blood. They're a duo that has just bass guitar/vocals and drums, and their music is really cool. The song I was listening to while writing that part is called Come on Over, so give that a listen if you want!  
> Tate is a product major projection mixed with some bitterness... so it was both emotional and satisfying to write this chapter. Apologies to Meis for giving him that baggage. I can relate.  
> Anyway! Thank you so much for reading! Tune in next time to see if Gueira can get his shit together, the answer may shock you. 
> 
> ||[twitter](https://twitter.com/livgrapefruits) ||


	6. Chapter 6

Gueira sat across from Meis in a booth in the back of the small taco shop, two large cups of horchata and three types of tacos on the table between them. They’d ordered their usual flavors, the favorite being carne asada with cilantro (on the side, as Meis claimed it tasted like soap) and extra guacamole. 

Gueira rested his chin on his hand, a dopey look on his face as he watched Meis dump spicy salsa onto a taco and take a bite, his own attention on the dwindling bustle of the city outside the window. His makeup was still a little smeared from earlier, though Gueira could tell he’d done his best to fix it up, and of course Meis could pull it off like it was intentional. 

As much as Gueira still wanted to rough Tate up a little, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relate to him at least a little bit. Who wouldn’t be hung up on a guy like Meis? 

In fact that made two people he knew of, except that Tate ruined his chance a long time ago and Gueira had nothing to worry about. Though Tate did actually get to date Meis at some point, which made Gueira more than a little envious.

“Gueira?” 

He blinked. Meis was giving him an amused sort of look.

“Hmm?” 

“Geez you’re really spacing out,” Meis remarked. 

“Just enjoyin’ your company.” It’d been days after all. 

Meis answered with a derisive snort. 

“I’m not even talking,” he said. “Tacos are too good.” 

“Yeah,” Gueira turned his attention back to his food, well, one last taco after practically inhaling three as soon as they were set in front of him. Meis had joked that Gueira was going to bite his own hand off. Without even having to ask, Meis pushed the hot sauce across the table toward him. Gueira snatched it up without hesitation.

Meis’ phone buzzed and he glanced at it. It was probably the group chat, since Gueira’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he was too busy eating to care.

“Look at this,” Meis held his phone up for Gueira to look.

On screen was a photo from Galo that showed an image projected on the wall of his apartment. Huge blocky letters read “5 Reasons Why You, Lio Fotia, Should Accompany Me, Galo Thymos, to the Gala” then in smaller text “presented by Galo Thymos.” Lio stood at the edge of the photo, face hidden in his hands.

“The Boss has certainly made… a choice,” Meis said, turning the phone back to look at the picture again. 

“It’s cute,” Gueira said. Somehow Galo could make everything a powerpoint and it never got overplayed. How’d he manage to have that gimmick and not overuse it? 

Meis put his phone back down, “Yeah no I agree. Didn’t say the Boss made a bad choice. Galo’s a sweet guy.” 

“Yeah…” Then Gueira felt a spike of anxiety. “Wait, we don’t need dates to this party do we?”

Meis raised an eyebrow. 

“You planning on askin’ someone?”

“No!” Gueira waved his hands as if it would dispel the idea from existence, “No, I meant like- is it required like is it one of those things where you’ve gotta have a date?”

“Nah, Galo’s just doin’ the most, as usual.” 

“Phew, okay,” Gueira sighed in relief, “Thank god, I wouldn’t wanna have to one-up him and embarrass the poor guy.”

Meis chuckled. 

“You know he’d just go harder next time, nothin’ gets him down.” 

“Thus starting a never ending battle to see who can ask someone to a gala in the most epic way,” Gueira said, “It would be amazing.”

“You’d have to ask someone,” Meis pointed out, “And I’m dyin’ to know who the lucky person would be.” 

He was prodding for an answer, and Gueira felt a little nervous. He wanted to evade it without implying that he was not completely uninterested, lest Meis get the wrong idea. This required tactics, which are famously not his strong suit.

“Lucky? D’aww shucks Meis,” Gueira joked, fanning himself with his hand. 

“Lucky unless they fuck up,” Meis took a sip of horchata, “Then I’m kicking their ass.”

“Excuse me, but this relationship only has room for one ex in need of an ass kicking,” Gueira said. Then he felt bad. They were supposed to be having a nice dinner to unwind from their day, and here he was bringing up the problem again because his mouth went off before his brain could stop it. He winced, about to open his mouth and offer an apology.

“I can see the headlines: Florida Man arrested for giving rock band singer the ass kicking he deserved.”

Meis stirred his drink with his straw, a small smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. Then he snorted.

“I’d pay to see it but it’d be unfair. Tate’s lived maybe a quarter of the shit we have and it would show.” 

Gueira was relieved, maybe basking a little in the praise too.

“I’ll fight him, but you gotta bail me outta jail if I get caught.” 

“‘Course I would, but I’m broke so we’d have to break out the old fashioned way,” Meis said, “God do I love a good prison break.”

Gueira chuckled darkly, “Me too, though at the time it scares ya shitless.”

“No kidding.” 

Somehow they’d moved from one heavy topic into one far, far heavier. Gueira was starting to wonder if avoiding these things just made them come up at the worst times, like stopping a pipe from leaking only to have it break and flood the kitchen. 

Meis finished his last taco and reached for a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table to clean extra salsa off his hands. 

“Well,” he said, “I could use a walk along the waterfront to clear my head…you game?” 

“Hell yeah!” He stuffed the rest of his last taco into his mouth, “Mmf-!” 

Meis stood up, giving Gueira that charming crooked smile of his, showing sharp teeth. Gueira felt warmed from the inside.

“You need a minute?” 

“Nah,” Gueira swallowed his last bite of taco and hopped up from the table to help Meis clear it off.

Dusk had fallen now so the lights of the city were just starting to come alive. They took a detour through some of the less crowded streets, most of which smelled strongly of freshly laid asphalt and were lined with scaffolding and plastic outside of many now probably empty buildings. 

At the edge of the river there were several little shops that face the water and it was newly repaved and sectioned off for foot traffic only, but at this time in the evening there aren’t as many people as usual. 

Gueira walked with his hands in his pockets, switching his gaze between the orange-y light of the setting sun on the water and at Meis, who seemed utterly lost in thought as he stared out over the river at the hazy skyline on the other side. 

The last several days had been weird, not talking to Meis felt so empty and strange. Gueira bit his lip, the silent treatment never made him feel better, but years of experience taught him that he had a tendency to blow up and cause more hurt if he didn’t take a step back and cool off. Not talking was the only way to do that. 

He wondered if Meis just implicitly understood that, and had given him that space on that understanding. 

“You hear about the guy who fished up a two-headed eel from the Promopolis River?” Meis broke the silence. It took a moment for Gueira to process what he said, then he snorted. 

“Dude. That has to be fake,” he said.

“Nuh uh there was a picture,” Meis said, “it was kinda fucked up.” 

“Well now you gotta show me that!” 

Meis pulled his phone out of his pocket and furiously googled the Promopolis river mutant eel. Since he was busy doing that, he didn’t notice as they approached a much wider path at the river's edge that opened into a sloping ramp leading to the entrance of one of the most beautiful buildings Gueira had ever seen. Sand-colored marble and glass, round walls that overlap like fish scales and with an artificial pond outside with an elaborate fountain; it was incredible. 

Gueira nudged Meis’ shoulder. 

“Woah, Meis look.”

He looked up and his expression opened in awe. 

“Geez…” he studied the building, “wait, this is the Community Center.” 

“What?” Gueira was stunned, “ _that’s_ the place we get to party at?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s fuckin’ fancy,” Gueira said in awe. 

It was the kind of place Gueira had only seen in pictures. After years of shantytowns and the vast emptiness of the desert, this looks like a dehydration-induced mirage. 

Meis crossed his bare arms, he was still wearing his jacket tied around his waist even as the temperature dropped. 

“Didja ever think we’d end up here?” He asked. Gueira shook his head. 

“Nah, I thought we’d always be on the run,” Gueira said, “Not like I coulda known we could un-Burnish.” 

Meis took a slow breath in. 

“I thought I’d be dead by thirty,” he said lowly. That made Gueira’s heart sink. Not that he hadn’t thought the same thing at one point. A year ago he might’ve nodded along solemnly, but a year ago they were probably out in the desert somewhere, smoking cigarettes as they awaited another sleepless night. Gueira still found it crazy that he had a bed to return to every night. 

He whirled around to face Meis. 

“But we’re not gonna be, so don’t think like that,” he said, eyes shining with a burning encouragement. “When you turn thirty we’re celebrating.”

“I know, I know. Now we’re workin’ for a fire department and going to a fancy party,” Meis huffed a half-laugh. “Who are we?” 

Another heaviness. They’ve both been a lot of different things, over time. And they understood that about each other. 

Gueira flashed a grin, cracking through the dour mood in a second.

“Who cares? We burned bright as Burnish and we bright bright even when we’re puttin’ out fires!” 

He loved the way that made Meis laugh. 

“Are we still two a’ the sexiest now ex-Burnish ever to walk the Earth?” He asked like he knew the answer. 

“Damn straight!” Gueira exclaimed, earning them the side eye from a few strangers passing by. 

Meis matched his smile, expression softening. Whatever it was, Gueira was doing something to improve his mood, and what a good feeling that was. He huffed out an amused breath through his nose and looked again at the Community Center building. Then he turned back to Meis, deciding that view was a whole lot prettier. 

“When are you gonna show me that fake eel story?” Gueira asked, “Or was it actually fake?” 

“It isn’t fake, hold on.” Meis scrolled down on his phone for a moment, then thrust the phone in his face, the screen depicting a photo of a man in a beige vest holding a slimy-looking eel in both arms. Sure enough, it had two wolfish looking heads. 

“Dude, that’s sick!” Gueira exclaimed. It looked like a mythical creature.

“See?” Meis was triumphant, “Not some phoney baloney eel story after all.” 

“Okay _fine_.” Gueira conceded, “I should trust you with this kinda shit.” 

“I mean, the implications of this kinda mutation are pretty severe-”

“No! No science I’m not smart enough for science!” Gueira shoved him, half joking. This only made Meis laugh more, and quite honestly that’s why Gueira egged him on. He loved that laugh so much. 

They cackled over the photo until Gueira’s sides hurt and he had to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think, should we go grab some snacks and go home?” Meis asked. He tilted his head to look at Gueira, some of his hair fell across his neck. 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Honestly, no plan had ever sounded better. 

  
  


▲▲▲

  
  


Gueira practically threw a cardboard box of tablecloths into the back of Ignis’ truck with an exaggerated huff. 

“And then he started tryin’ all this ‘I’m sorry I cheated’ crap-“ Gueira lowered his voice mockingly, “-Bluebell, I know I’m a cheater but I promise I’m different, nyeeeeh.” 

“Bluebell?” Aina asked, two heavy cardboard boxes easily balanced in her arms. Gueira dusted his hands on his pants. 

“That’s what he called ‘em! As if he had _any_ right! God, what a fuckin’ prick!” He threw another box into the truck with little care, making the contents rattle around. 

“Be careful,” Aina warned, setting her boxes into the truck. They were in charge of taking some of the supplies for the gala over to the Community Center, Galo and Varys were already there setting up the tables and chairs and Remi was in charge of making sure nothing was missed. Gueira had no idea where Meis and Lucia were, if he had to guess they were on duty since someone had to be, but he didn’t pay attention during the briefing that morning. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Gueira picked up a box of napkins, “Anyway, the story gets worse.”

Gueira hadn't told Aina all the details about Tate out of respect for Meis’ privacy, he mostly wanted to vent about his own feelings on what happened, and he sure did have a lot of those.

“How can it get worse?” Aina asked. 

“Well, I was a fuckin’ genius and told Tate that Meis was my boyfriend,” Gueira said, “But! It worked! He backed off.”

“Ew, so Meis saying no wasn’t enough?” 

“No.” 

“Ugh gross! So then what happened?”

“We fuckin’ booked it!” Gueira said, “We took the coffee and said vamoose. I don’t know who wanted to leave more, me ‘r Meis.” 

“Geez, now I’m grateful that going to get coffee is super boring for me,” Aina said, nudging a box with the toe of her sneakers before leaning over to pick it up.

“How’d Meis react to you pretending to be his boyfriend?” 

Gueira shrugged.

“I dunno. That’s the sucky part, he was upset ‘bout the whole thing so I don’t know if he really cared?” He _wished_ Meis had said something, anything about it. 

“I’m sure he cared, you got him out of that whole mess.” 

“Yeah, but… I feel like I screwed up,” Gueira’s mind went back to that accidental kiss, also known as his biggest screw-up yet, in his own mind. He wasn’t completely sure it was even an accident, but it sure felt better than admitting he’d kissed Meis and then pretended he didn’t like it to save face. Pretending to be his boyfriend was just the logical next step in his line of dumb ideas that make him feel bad after the fact.

“But you guys aren’t fighting anymore right?” Aina ventured.

“Not really.” 

“So… it seems like it might’ve actually fixed the problem,” Aina peered into a box before picking it up. She had a point. Gueira couldn’t have stayed mad after that. His pride really didn’t mean as much to him as Meis did, at the end of it all. 

Aina put the last box in the truck and dusted her gloved hands off, admiring their progress. She went around to the diver side of the truck and hopped in, Gueira followed on the passenger side and slammed the door shut. 

“You know what really sucks ‘bout the whole thing though?” he asked. 

“What?” Aina turned the keys in the ignition and turned around in her seat to back the truck out of the garage. 

“He was hot!” Gueira exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “He was tall and built with like an undercut and a nose piercing like a total hot rockstar type guy, it’s not fair! How come the assholes are always sexy?” 

He frowned. Scrawny and constantly slouching looked pretty lame compared to that. 

Aina raised an eyebrow, “and what? You think you’re somehow not a match for him?” 

“No! I know I’m like a seven on a good day but Tate’s probably like a solid nine n’ a half when he rolls outta bed.”

“Lemme just stop you there,” Aina said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to illustrate her point, “this man you’ve been describing sounds like a massive douche there’s no reason to think he’s got anything on you.” 

“No I mean he’s hotter than me, but I have the advantage of not being an asshole,” Gueira explained, “So like technically we’re equal?”

“So the problem is what, exactly?” 

“Okay, lemme explain,” Gueira held his hands up, “Like if Tate is over here in the trash tier…”

He gestured to his left.

“-And I’m here in the middle tier-”

His hand descended in front of him in a chopping motion.

“-Then Meis is wa-ay,” he rolled the window down and stretched his arm out to his right as far as it would go outside the truck, “over there.”

Aina blinked slowly, unamused. 

“Gueira, you’re ridiculous.” 

“It’s true!” Gueira insisted, “All I’m saying he’s outta my league.” 

“No he isn’t, you’re his best friend.” 

“But…”

“Oh my god, will you _please_ just talk to him about this? It would solve literally this entire situation,” she said, exasperated. “I promise you it’ll work out.”

Gueira crossed his arms and sunk down into his seat.

“I don’t like when you say things that would make sense, don’t do that.” 

“So you’re aware that talking this out would be a good idea?” Aina glanced at him as she came to a stop at a red light.

“I guess,” Gueira muttered. 

“What do you mean you guess?” 

“I’m nervous!” He whined, “Talkin’ it out means like, actually talkin’ about it.” 

“Yeah, that… is what that means,” Aina said. “But if it helps, I’ll back you up.” 

Gueira opened his mouth to thank her but she held up a finger to shush him.

“If-” She paused for effect. “You do this before midnight at the gala.”

“Why midnight? Will I lose my pretty outfit like Cinderella and have to flee the gala?”

“I know what movies you were watching in all that time you were giving Meis the silent treatment.” Aina remarked dryly. “And no, but Galo and I will be forced to take drastic measures if you don’t do something.”

Gueira wasn’t sure he wanted to know what drastic measures meant.

“For the record, _he_ was giving _me_ the silent treatment.”

“You were both doing it,” Aina said, “Do you want me to resort to drastic measures now? I’ll text Galo.”

“No! Gimme till midnight, I got this.” Gueira said, “But you gotta back me up.” 

“I’ll come up with something,” Aina said. They pulled up to the community center and she parked the truck, then she looked over at Gueira. 

“Remember. Drastic measures.” 

Gueira opened the door to the truck.

“Yup. Drastic measures,” he said, “Won’t make you use ‘em.” 

“Good.” Aina opened her own door and hopped out of the truck, through the window Gueira saw her blow a bubble with her gum and lazily pop it before moving around to unload the truck.

“Come on!” 

“Got it!” Gueira scrambled out of the truck. 

  
  


▲▲▲

It was a slow day at Burning Rescue, so Gueira decided to wander around the building, hoping to maybe run into Ignis and Remi and subsequently get roped into doing something productive. He couldn’t just sit around in the breakroom, nobody was there anyway.

When Gueira walked into the garage he wasn’t expecting to hear the radio blasting, or Galo singing along. It smelled like soap, and there were puddles of sudsy water everywhere. In the middle of it all was Remi’s mech, and Galo, holding a sponge and shirtless, as usual, with soap bubbles on his chest and stuck in his mohawk.

“Oh hey Gueira!” He said, cheerful as always. It was like the entire room lit up when he smiled. 

“Hey,” Gueira waved. “Cleanin’ mechs?” 

“Yeah... gotta do it before the gala, they were covered in soot and dirt.” Galo tossed the sponge into a bucket of soapy water. “Wanna help?”

“Uh, sure.” Gueira said, “What should I do?”

“Awesome! Grab a sponge!” Galo turned back to the arm he was scrubbing. Gueira did so and went to the other side of the mech and started there, surprised at just how much grime was on it, most of it accumulated in the seams between plates of metal or in joints. 

It didn’t take long until Gueira’s t-shirt was soaked, so he ended up taking it off and tossing it aside. If Galo could run around without a shirt all the time then so could he. 

“Oh, cool tattoo,” Galo remarked, sticking his head out from his spot on the other side of the mech. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen the whole thing, usually you can only see a bit of it.”

Unconsciously, Gueira’s fingers brushed at his collarbone, right at the edge of the tattoo. 

“Thanks.”

Galo moved around so that they were somewhat in each other’s line of sight. He glanced up and met Gueira’s gaze with a casual smile. 

“You n’ Meis got them together, right?” 

The way he asked made Gueira’s stomach flip. 

“Yeah, well I mean, I did his and he did mine,” Gueira said, “They’re a little fucked up... but I think it gives ‘em character y’know?” 

Neither of them knew how to properly do a tattoo, and Gueira hadn’t quite known what he was getting into when he chose to get it on his collarbone, because damn did it hurt. He was surprised Meis did as well as he did, considering how much Gueira was moving around when he did it. 

“I think they’re pretty cool,” Galo said, “Suits you guys.” 

Then he paused.

“You think Lio would go for matching tattoos? Like a matoi? OH!” he snapped his fingers, “Lio de Galon, but like he gets one half n’ I get the other, like on our arms and then when we put them together it makes the whole thing.” 

“That’s so sappy,” Gueira said, “And it’s too soon to get matching tattoos, what the hell?”

“Says the man who has matching tattoos with his best friend.” 

“Hey! Bro tattoos are cool!” Gueira crossed his arms, “And they’re _symbolic_.”

“Symbolic of you two being _best bros_?” Galo asked. The short answer was yes, in a way. They got the tattoos after escaping Freeze Force together, in celebration of living through the experience. 

“Yup!”

“ _Just_ best bros?”

Gueira narrowed his eyes and pouted. Galo won that one. 

“Hey,” he clapped Gueira on the shoulder, “Didn’t mean to bring up something weird, I know you two are-”

“How ‘bout I go move one of the mechs over?” Gueira interrupted, desperate to end this conversation. Galo, thankfully, read the cue. 

“Uhh, you can’t just move it,” Galo said.

It was huge, bulky, and definitely not something Gueira could just move without actually piloting the thing. He gave it a once over, acting unimpressed.

“Then whatever, it’s not as cool as my old Burnish armor.” 

It didn’t meld to the body and move like an extension of one’s limbs with all of the ease of a second, bulkier skin. This was cold unfeeling metal, not living flame.

“Wha-at?” Galo smacked the side of the mech with his palm, “This thing’s several tons of pure power! It’s super cool.” 

“Oh really? Not as cool as custom armor made of solid fucking fire,” Gueira said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You say that as if _my_ Matoi didn’t kick _your_ ass!” Galo said, smirking, “It was pretty cool then, huh?” 

“I _let_ you kick my ass, and I don’t do that often,” Gueira said. “Boss’s orders.” 

Though he did have doubts that in a longer fight he would have been able to win, Galo was really powerful in that Matoi. 

“I mean, I was kinda intimidated by you in that armor you had. Shit was kinda scary,” Galo said casually, “Yours especially.”

Gueira had to smile at that.

“That was the point!” He said in triumph, “I wanted to show people who was boss! Until I wasn’t the boss, then I wanted to show people not to mess with the Boss!” 

Galo laughed, “Well, I mess with everything so it didn’t work on me. Still looked cool though!”

“Thanks!” Gueira put his hands on his bare hips, “You’re a man of taste.” 

“Don’t I know it!” Galo said, and the two of them dissolved into laughter. Then Galo hopped into the mech to move it over and the two set to work again, the conversation turning to more lighthearted things, like action movies and what video games Gueira liked to play on his days off. 

As Gueira turned around to dunk his sponge in more soapy water, his eyes drifted to the doorway, more specifically to someone standing in the doorway. 

“Howdy, boys.” 

It was Meis, of course, making a motion like he was tipping an invisible hat, an amused grin on his face. This must have been a scene, Gueira and Galo shirtless and covered in soap bubbles as they washed giant rescue mechs. 

“Hey Meis.” Gueira ventured, “What’s up?”

“Nothin’. Sorry to interrupt this weird attempt at a sexy car wash.” Meis said. He had Lucia’s keyring hooked on one finger, the keys jangled as he crossed the garage.

“You sure you don’t wanna join?” Gueira asked, which he immediately regretted. His face heated up in an instant, and he grasped at a way to deflect that. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Meis said, his smirk growing, “But it sure looks fun.” 

“C’mon! Meis!” Gueira wasn’t helping his own case here, but at this point he had a bit of an agenda... mostly to get Meis to take his shirt off. 

“Uh I gotta bring this stuff to Lucia,” Meis held up a dusty toolbox covered in splatters of dried paint. 

“So give ‘em to her and come back.”

“And bring Lio!” Galo added. He must also have an agenda. 

“We’ll see,” Meis said, disappearing back out the door. Gueira met Galo’s eyes and the two exchanged a quizzical look.

“You think he’ll bring Lio?” Galo asked.

Gueira shrugged, “Hopefully?” 

Meis did return with Lio and Aina, who both looked amused upon entering the garage. Lio especially made no attempt to hide the fact that he was a fan of what was going on here. 

“Y’know, we could just watch,” he said. He found a sturdy cardboard box in the corner and sat down, knees about as far apart as they could go. He angled himself so that Galo was right in his line of sight. 

“Ah yes, continue Galo.” 

Aina snickered behind her hand and Meis shrugged. 

“Nah uh, if there’s a show I wanna be part of it,” He threw his jacket off and went to grab a sponge. Gueira grinned and kept working, partially hiding behind the mech. He peeked around just in time to catch Meis tying his hair up, his back to him and wow, Gueira could watch him comb his fingers through his dark hair all day and never complain. 

“Heads up!” Galo aimed the hose at the mech and a blast of cold water shook Gueira from his daydreamed. 

“What the fuck! Galo?” He shrieked, soaking wet from head to toe, hair dripping and losing a little bit of its usual fluffiness. 

“Whoops! Sorry!” Galo waved, “I thought you moved!” 

Beside him, Meis laughed.

“Oh, two can play at that game!” Gueira took his sponge and threw it at Galo, but it sailed past him and landed on the floor with a soggy slap. 

“Ha! Ya missed!” Galo aimed the hose again and Gueira grabbed one of the water buckets and skittered out of the way. He wasn’t anticipating Meis, the sneak, practically teleporting behind him, a water gun in hand, and Gueira yelped as a shot of water hit him in the back. 

Meis cackled and pumped the water gun, ready to fire again.

“Any last words, Miami?”

“Where’d ya get the gun?!” Gueira ran across the garage with Meis in pursuit. Along the shelves on the wall, Lio and Aina rummaged in a large plastic storage bin, a few pool noodles and inflatable arm floats on the floor by their feet. 

“Gueira!” Aina called, “Come get one!” 

He breathed in relief and ran by, snatching the water gun out of her hands. This one was the kind that shot a steady stream of water, versus the one Meis had, which shot a few large bursts of water and needed to be pumped between shots. 

Now armed, Gueira ran around the other side of the mech to avoid Galo, who still had the hose as his primary weapon and seemed to have his sights set on Meis, who’d managed to stay dry so far. He needed to fill his water gun but the faucet was right next to the hose, the danger zone. 

“Okay!” Aina had her own water gun now and Lio wielded two small water pistols. 

Galo aimed the hose and Lio dodged easily. With him distracted, Gueira filled his gun with no trouble. It seemed that the faucet was an unspoken cease-fire zone. 

Meis had disappeared somewhere. Galo, Lio and Aina were distracted with each other. There’s not a ton of hiding places in here, it was a large open garage lined with shelves of equipment and boxes and the mechs parked right in the middle. 

The mechs. Gueira crept by each one, water gun poised in his hands. He knew Meis, he’d be hiding in some wacky spot ready to snipe whatever poor unsuspecting soul walked past. Which means he’d probably be up high. 

Gueira looked up at one of the mechs and caught a little bit of dark blue hair sticking out from behind the shoulder. Got him. He ran, he’s faster than Meis and they both know it, and fired, hitting Meis in the back of his shoulder with a stream of water.

“Ack!” Meis jumped down to ground level, and looked around wildly.

“Gueira!” He raised the water gun, a positively evil smile breaking out across his face.

“Heh.” Gueira took off running, once again with Meis in pursuit. There weren’t that many places to run to, so if he kept up for too long they’d be running in circles. 

“Fire in the hole!” That was Lucia’s voice. A huge blast of water shot in their direction, missing Gueira’s back by a hair and hitting Meis dead on. He yelped and stopped running, stunned and thoroughly soaked. 

“What the fuck!” he shouted. 

Lucia cackled from her post at the entrance to the garage. She perched on what looked like a regular cannon, though clearly one not made to fire real ammunition, as it was hooked up to the firetruck with a rather wide hose. 

“Water cannon works!” Galo declared, punching the air as if it were his victory.

“Water cannon!?” Meis asked, horrified. He looked a bit like a wet cat, with all the irritation. 

“Yeah, dude we’re the fire department,” Lucia said, “We gotta water cannon.” 

Meis slicked his wet bangs out of his face.

“I hate y’all,” he said, though he barely sounded angry. 

Gueira grinned, “She gotcha good, Cowboy.”

Meis stuck his tongue out at him, and Gueira mimicked him by sticking his own tongue out right back. 

Lio dashed between them. 

“I’d dodge if I were you,” he warned. Gueira moved fast, Meis right beside him, right out of the blast of the water cannon. For all of the soaking power it had, it wasn’t quicker than a water gun by any stretch. Lucia had turned the water pressure down to make sure it couldn’t hurt someone. For Gueira it was easy to outrun, but there’s only so many places to go. Eventually Meis hopped up into one of the mechs and pulled Gueira inside with him. 

Gueira turned his head and realized that he and Meis were _close_ , face-to-face and squeezed together to both fit in a space normally designed for one person. They’re both soaked, Meis’ hair stuck to his face and his tank top clung to his torso, outlining lean muscle that Gueira was _not_ tracing with his eyes. It doesn’t help that he was topless himself. 

Meis seemed to be taking a moment to catch his breath, his panting was not helping Gueira’s thoughts right about now. He looked up at some of the control switches above their heads, hoping the flush on his face could be passed off as being from exercise.

“I’m calling a truce!” Galo shouted, “It’s lunchtime!” 

Gueira looked to Meis, and both of them shrugged at the same time.

“What do we think?” Lucia said, “do we honor this request?” 

Meis hopped back out of the mech, and Gueira stumbled out alongside him. 

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” Lio said from somewhere on the other side of the garage. 

“Okay that’s one!”

“Yeah, my hair is all fucked up,” Meis said.

Aina set her water gun down, “Yeah I want lunch.” 

“Lunch sounds awesome,” Gueira said.

“Well okay fine. But this isn’t over,” Lucia said darkly. “The water cannon will taste blood again.” 

Aina laughed and Lucia shot her a toothy grin. 

“Well _I_ for one would like to taste some pizza,” Galo said. “Who’s with me?” 

“Me!” Gueira hopped forward. Then he looked to Meis, somewhat hoping he’d agree. 

“Yeah, pizza’s good.” 

“I’ll get Rems and Varys. And the Captain, I guess,” Lucia said. 

“Hold on, I’m changing into dry clothes,” Aina said, “Then we can go.” 

Everyone muttered their agreement and one by one shuffled into the main building toward the locker rooms. Then Gueira remembered that his jacket and shirt were still in the garage, and he turned around to go grab them. 

He splashed through the pools of water that collected in the uneven concrete floor, finally finding his clothes sitting in a pile by the water faucet. He had to wring all the water out, then he went back to the locker room. 

As soon as he opened the door he was met with a pretty good look at Meis’ back, at the little dimples right above where the waistband of his pants sit on his lean hips. He has a black linework tattoo of a rattlesnake on the right side of his ribcage, the edge of which Gueira can make out right before it’s covered up by an oversized FDPP t-shirt. He’s had it for a while, since even before he awakened as Burnish. 

Gueira looked away just as Meis turned to face him. 

“There’s dry clothes in the back,” he gestured with his thumb, “‘n case you need ‘em.” 

“Yeah, cool. Awesome,” Gueira wasn’t sure why his brain was so fried today, of all days. After years of being around Meis, why now would he be so damn flustered? It’s not like he _just_ realized he was in love with him and oh man he was making _himself_ flustered. The only thing he could think of was how much he _loves_ Meis. 

“Are you okay? You’re kinda makin’ a face,” Meis asked. Gueira nodded so hard it strained at his neck, trying to physically shake the thought from his head, but only succeeding in rattling it around. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m _so_ cool. Ice fuckin’ cold, baby.” _Shit_. That sounded like way too much. Gueira’s smile to try and cover himself only ended up looking like a nervous grimace. 

Meis just laughed, Gueira might have been imagining the tinge of embarrassment on the edge of it, or maybe he was just projecting his own embarrassment. Either way, Gueira could feel his face heating up. The way Meis tossed his damp hair over his shoulder didn’t help at all, and neither did the smirk that crossed his face. Gueira could swear the universe was testing him at this point. 

“Right back ‘atcha, babe.” Meis said, making a little finger gun motion.

Then he grabbed his jacket and tossed his hair over his shoulder with a little too much vigor before slipping out of the locker room, leaving Gueira completely glued to the floor, his lips pressed together and all coherent thoughts wiped from his mind. 

“I…” His face burned, nearly red enough to match his hair, his heart was pounding. Luckily he was alone now, so he could take a moment to collect himself before spluttering to nobody:

“ _Babe?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So lockdown has honestly turned my brain to mush and all I want to write is lighter, fluffier things... so this happened. This chapter was a blank space in my outline where I had nothing real planned except I just wanted Gueira and Galo to hang out. I love the two of them being friends, they have so much goofball energy.  
> Next chapter is The Gala :) Will Aina have to resort to Drastic Measures? We'll see.  
> Thank you so much for reading, see y'all next chapter!!


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